“Marco?”
“Polo!”
Most of us have played the game Marco Polo. A blindfolded tagger seeks to capture the other children who are meanwhile trying to evade him.
The tagger does have some hope in his game: whenever he calls out “Marco” the other players must respond with “Polo.”
By following the sound of their voices, the tagger must capture the scurrying players until only one remains.
But as the game continues, the tagger learns to really use his ears.
The sound of scampering feet; heavy breathing from suppressed laughter; and the whooshing of air as he misses a person and hears them dodging to safety.
As the game progresses, the tagger also recognizes the characteristics of the voices.
That one has the tone of his cousin; that other high giggle with a slight lisp is his younger sister with a missing front tooth; and the annoying chuckle constantly dancing around him is undoubtedly his best friend.
Marco Polo is a game of listening.
Not only must the tagger be listening for any movement, but he must also choose someone to pursue.
“Marco?”
“Polo!”
Consider how we make life choices: the money, relationships, location, comfort, and appeal–the voices go on and on in our mind.
Then we hear that still, strong voice that says, “Over here.”
“Lord?” we call, taking a few unsteady voices.
“Hey, come this way!”
“You can’t do this!”
“What will other people say?”
“What if you fail again?”
The various voices are confusing and overwhelming.
Sometimes we begin to doubt the steps we’ve already taken.
“Should I go back to school?”
“Is this really a person I want to hang out with?”
As one who believes that every person has a loving Creator, I choose to turn to Him to guide me in the right direction.
“Lord?”
“Here, my child.”
A few more steps, and again I’m surrounded by the confusing cacophony of voices–mostly my own conflicting emotions and doubts.
“Maybe I really can’t get that job.”
“Am I going to fail at this too?”
In those times of despair, I want relief. Peace. Direction.
I need answers.
I need the Voice’s strength.
So I call again.
“Lord?”
“Here, my child.”
The Voice doesn’t run.
He waits for us, patiently repeating His words in a quiet, still voice until we truly recognize Him and follow Him for Who He is.
And trust me: if you’ve seen or ever played Marco Polo, you know the tagger doesn’t usually walk in a perfectly straight line.
They stumble. They bump into things. They second guess their first steps.
But when they gravitate towards a certain voice, they follow the sound of that voice until they reach their objective.
Gravitate toward that Voice Who loves you unconditionally and graciously forgives.
We stumble into mess. We bump into some wrong crowds. And we’ll second guess some of our choices.
Yet the Voice doesn’t run.
He’s still waiting for us to gravitate towards Him.
“Marco?”
“Polo!”
Whose voice are you gravitating toward?
.
.
.
There are an unlimited number of voices in our world and in our own mind.
If you’re seeking the Voice, then may I strongly suggest listening to His Word?
Yes, it’s a love book; undoubtedly a guide book; but the Bible is also a rewarding book.
If you have any questions or wonder where one should begin reading, please don’t hesitate to message me!
Thanks for reading!!
Very well written! A bit long to put inside of a fortune cookie, but truthful enough to try.
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Thank you! Although I could begin a factory for larger fortune cookies if necessary…
Next time I will definitely work more on conciseness.
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Beautiful connection to such a nostalgic thing!
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Thank you, Kaitlin! Sometimes childhood games connect hard with adult reality.
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