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"You. Can’t. Quit."


A thought by Shaun Nepstad from his book, Don't Quit in the Dip (p. 3). Worthy. Kindle Edition.  (Click on the book title to go to Amazon to buy the book.) 


Shaun says, "There is a story told of a chess champion who is on vacation. Also an art connoisseur, he finds himself wandering through the hallways of a prestigious art gallery. One masterpiece stops him in his tracks and captures his full attention. It’s a painting of a chess game. But this is no ordinary chess game. On one side of the board sits the devil, leaning back in his chair with a fiendish grin, confidently tapping his fingers on the table. On the other side sits a young man in utter terror, clenching his teeth, wringing his hands, sweat dripping from his brow. The painting is titled Checkmate. It appears that the young man’s soul is dependent on the outcome of the game—and he’s about to lose.

"The chess champion is so taken with this painting that he cannot look away. As his eyes scour the chessboard, his mind begins calculating. When a gallery custodian happens by, the chess champion asks, 'Excuse me, sir. You wouldn’t happen to have an old chessboard lying around, would you?' The custodian says, 'I think I might. Let me check in our break room.' He quickly returns and gives the board to the chess champion, who sets it up to match what he sees in the painting. He looks down at the board and back up at the picture repeatedly until every piece is exactly in its place.

"After studying the board and the painting for several moments, he steps back and crosses his arms, and a smile creeps across his face. He lifts his voice in the quiet hallways of this seemingly abandoned art gallery and says, 'Young man in the painting, I sure wish you could hear me right now, because I’ve got some good news. The devil only thinks he has won, but I’ve been studying the board, and there is a move he has missed! If you could see what I see, the whole nature of this game would change. Not only would this move save you from defeat, but it would also help you win the entire game!'"

Shaun then says, "This legend, first told in the 1800s and brought to life for me by Tony Evans, is one of my favorites. Maybe it’s because I can relate to the young man in the painting, knowing I have given my best attempt at the chess game of life but still have felt cornered. Checkmated. I’ve had unfulfilled dreams that looked like they would never come true. Slumped back in my chair and ready to give up, I have wished a chess champion would shout out the move that would turn things around.

"This slumped-down place in life is what I call 'the dip.'"

And that can be us, can't it?

Yes, yes!

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