It's hard to describe the joy a father feels seeing his children at play, but I can tell you it's real, and I know that God feels it, too.

Christian games don’t have a great reputation. In fact, some laughably bad games were published under the label “Christian.” Why is that?

Games have the capacity to beautiful, to be meaningful. But locating that beauty and meaning is not easy.

In many ways, my adolescent relationships are like the church's relationship with games—lacking.

Infinite runners are the best metaphor for my thinking on goals at the moment. I have trouble with goals because of the tension between the finite and the infinite, the concrete and the ephemeral.

As a child, it wasn't uncommon for fights to break out over the controller, and sometimes, those fights would escalate into full-blown wrestling matches. As an adult, I realize I’ve been wrestling with God over the control of my life.

Through play, we break the spell the enemy has us under and start to see the truth about failure, which is that it isn't to be feared and avoided but to be embraced and learned from as a step toward our purpose.

No one wants to be a hypocrite, yet everyone knows they are at times. We were made in the image of God, who is unchanging, faithful, trustworthy, and perfectly consistent. So, we expect this consistency from all our interactions.

Have you ever noticed how many Christian products' unique selling point is safety? It's a little weird when you think about it. The Bible is anything but safe.

For the past twenty years, CGDC has been a gathering place for Christian game makers worldwide. Though small in attendance, the conference has had an outsized impact on its attendees.

Christian game developers are uniquely equipped to love and minister to our culture in this time of instability, mistrust, and continuous hustle.

You may have heard it says that life is a marathon, not a sprint. It's an apt metaphor, especially when trying to follow Christ. When I read the writings of Paul and Peter, the race they describe doesn't sound like a fun run or a couch to 5K or even a 100-meter dash. It's an endurance race requiring perseverance through tests, challenges, and setbacks.

Daddy, will you play this game with me is such a simple, innocent, and intimate question that I was struck with its profoundness when my friend Mitchell said he uses that question as a filter for his design process.

I was recently on a call that gathered a group of brothers across various vocations. There were ministry leaders, educators, administrators, and game developers, all of whom loved Jesus and liked games. As we chatted and shared our stories and work, I was struck by one idea: games are about relationships.

When thinking about the presence of an action or activity that could be considered sinful (killing, lying, stealing, etc.), I picture a continuum. On the left side is what I'm labeling Allow. In the middle, we have Incorporate; on the far right side, we have Celebrate.

Last month the Christian Game Developers Conference hosted its annual virtual conference. The virtual conference takes place every winter and gives members of the community from around the world an opportunity to speak, connect, and encourage one another.

"Be fruitful" were the first words Adam heard. From that first instruction, we have understood that work is important; yet, since the arrival of sin, we've struggled to give it its intended place.

A brother challenged me the other day concerning the work I've been doing. He said, "you preach play when a war is going on." He isn't wrong—a war is raging through all creation.

Are there too many games? It’s an odd question when coming out the mouth of a game developer; it’s even stranger when asking a bunch of people this question at the beginning of a game jam.

I fear I have a weak understanding of power and suspect I'm not alone. I work in an industry that makes products, some of which get labeled "power fantasies" and "god simulators," this leads me to believe there is room for growth.