Puzzles are wonderful little things. Some are small - 250 pieces or so. Some are large - 1000 pieces! But all are meaningful and beautiful to the owner of that particular puzzle.
People who do puzzles love them because they are relaxing, challenging at times, can be done alone or with others, and are something beautiful to look at. You can even have a puzzle created with a family photo or a picture your child has drawn! Additionally, puzzles are easily displayed in your home with a backing and some glue. Voila, instant “homemade” art!
Puzzles are also meaningful to the person who originally created the puzzle. Whether the artist or the company who manufactured it, puzzles are valuable to that creator.
My life feels like a puzzle sometimes. There are days when I feel like I’m missing a piece…or two. Or it feels like someone has put the puzzle pieces in a box, shaken them up, and then thrown them around like confetti and as far as they will go! Seriously, it feels like they’ve landed in another city sometimes. Other days, I throw the pieces around myself!
There are also times where I could have sworn I put all the pieces together yesterday, but today the one that goes right in the middle has completely disappeared. Poof!
And then there are those moments when I look over at Sally so-and-so and see their puzzle. And I’m like, “Ooo. I want a puzzle like that. Why can’t I have a puzzle like that? They have more pieces. The art work on their puzzle is more beautiful than mine. Today my puzzle pieces feel and look worn and old and ugly and boring.” And I temporarily and begrudgingly walk away from my puzzle to admire and pout and desire someone else’s puzzle.
But God tells me in His word to take my whole life, all of those puzzle pieces, and place it before Him.
Surrendered. In worship. With thankfulness. Acknowledging my dependence on Him. Recognizing that He welcomes my tears, my questions, my angst. And that He meets me where I am with His loving counsel and peace.
So I imagine myself scooping all these tiny pieces up into my hands the best I can, walking slowly so as not to drop any, kinda like a toddler trying to carry multiple things at once. And I hesitantly but open handedly give all the pieces to Him.
After I hand them over, I look up, and realize that I’ve been standing in His hand the entire time. Those other cities where pieces have been thrown? Yeah, in His hand, too.
Not one piece is missing.
Because He’s the creator of this life. He willed it to be. He knows how it goes together. He didn’t give me someone else’s to put together. Sure, I can help others with their puzzle and vice versa. But He gave me my own. It wasn’t cheap, and it’s not for the throw away pile.
Romans 12. Psalm 46. John 14. Psalm 139. 1 Corinthians 14. Proverbs 9.
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