At sewing this week a little girl told me that her brother had been double dog dared to lick a metal pole. While his tongue did not stick to the icy surface, which was entirely possible, he did pick up enough germs to throw up. 

The conversation meandered to things the students had been dared to do. I remembered the game Truth or Dare that hovered below the parental radar on King Road growing up. I think I was egged on to do some stupid things, like sneak up to an elderly lady's door and ring the doorbell. Then I ran away. Three times. 

I wonder though about the place of challenge. When we take on a goal, one that is not shadowed with mischief, does it get us past complacency? The hoola hoop contest every summer urges people to practice, and wiggle harder. Probably physical trainers are masters of the dare, dangling a string of stretches like a carrot. 

"Bet you can't do fifty!"

Looking over my kids' shoulders it looks like video games are a never ending succession of dares. It keeps them clicking and blasting, when they might be doing a hundred other things. Probably it fosters perseverance. 

God uses dares. Just when we think life is easy breezy He ups the ante and tosses an obstacle in the way. 

"You think you can stay married? With a baby? One that never sleeps? How about with health problems? Or a special needs kid? Can you stay married without enough money? How about if you lose a job?" 

One thing I have discovered is that I can take more hardship than I thought. 

And I am still in the game.