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  I started this game filled with confidence. From my vantage point at one end of the board, as I looked at the field of black and white squares before me, I was sure I was about to accomplish great feats. I looked up at my master’s face. Will he use me? Will I be great? I wanted so badly to make him proud!
      One by one he moved other pieces, but I remained in place. The board became a maze of black and white faces. My way was blocked. Why had he not moved me sooner? Now I shall be stuck here forever. I could not see a clear step in front of me. I watched as pieces moved again, here and there. Yet, still I was passed over.
      Then I felt his strong hand envelop me. It was dark and I could not see my way. I became afraid. After waiting so long, would I fail him now?
      His grip tightened. Was he angry with me? Would he cast me aside? I looked but could not see his face—only darkness inside his mighty hand.
      I lost my footing. He was lifting me up. I felt dizzy and disoriented. When I looked down, the black and white squares were a blur. How could I win if I could not even see where I was going? I wanted so badly to serve him well, but now I am lost. All is lost!
      He set me down and loosened his grip. I looked around and got my bearings. I was surprised to see how far I had come. I had captured one of my opponents. My master must have seen that chance. He must have known.
      As the game progressed, I learned first to recognize his touch, to trust the shadow of his hand. I even learned to love the tightness of his grip; he would never let me fall. He did not always move me where I thought I should go, but I found a sense of freedom in his hand.
      I looked up and saw him smiling proudly. That was when I understood. He was the one playing the game. It was his game, not mine. He could see the entire field and had an overall strategy, and he would chart my course. I would not win for him; he would win for me. I was just a simple chesspiece. I would go where he saw fit to put me.
      When his hand overshadows me and I cannot see my way, I will trust. When I feel the pressure of his squeeze, I will trust.
      Put me where you will, dear God.


Posted by Marie Morrow 

 


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