Sitting down to the table I would break open the new bag, pour out the cardboard dust covered pieces and begin sorting. Edges first.
If I were trying to challenge myself, I’d do the puzzle without sorting or even more extreme—without the box image—completely blind. All the pixelated colors as meaningless as the blurs of shape and edges. Puzzle difficulty levels are serious business.
This white line carries over into the next three pieces next to that sweep of shadow above the grass. Grouping like things together, I would slowly begin to see the image come together and take on new understanding.
Its funny how the big picture means so much more when we’ve seen the tiny details of what it’s made of.
This mirrors life; the more people we meet and situations we encounter, the greater the detail we see in these life-pieces. The older we get, the more pieces we see still in the box waiting for their time. The edges get blurred at times or aren’t square. The pieces start to look irregular instead of predictable and wisdom tells us that the odd shape of it all is in fact what normal looks like.
I would hurriedly finish the sides of the puzzle—wanting a frame of reference to work with. I needed some sort of reason and order. Outside first, then fill in the middle. If it was really difficult I would sort by color. I had direct control over how much time I wanted to spend on this.
Yes, I am still a reforming control freak. This likely will be a life-long journey of letting go of my own expectations of order.
When I had the outside assembled I would hurriedly start placing inside pieces until i got stuck. Then it took willpower NOT to look at the box. I wanted perspective instead of an up-close wandering through matching shades of interlocking cardboard. I just needed to see what was going to happen; make sense of it!
So I would occasionally peek at the cover, match the colors and move them to the section of puzzle they should go. They would be ready to fit into place.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.—Jeremiah 29:11
This life-puzzle thing made a lot more sense when I thought there were only 50 pieces that fit inside a wooden frame.
Now I realize it is giant. It has no edges, no “normal” pieces and it isn’t the same one my neighbor is doing so I can’t cheat. The only way that I get a glimpse of the “big picture” is by asking its creator. If I want to see where something goes and why it doesn’t fit where I think it “should” I’m going to have to ask, and wait.
“Okay God, I’m putting this together but I think we are missing pieces here. This section of puzzle looks like its where the mother-daughter relationship goes…but the pieces aren’t fitting the way they should, it looks like fuzzy dark pieces go here. The lines are twisted and go in wrong directions. I think we are missing pieces.”
We don’t always get the picture we think we should. It doesn’t always go together the way we want. Often it looks like the people around us may have gotten our pieces. Sometimes what makes sense to us and seems fair and what happens are very very different things.
We get to look at painful places that are frustrating and hard at times and trust Him with the big picture.
To check back in often—“Where does this piece go, can you tell? Lord, my heart hurts because I have a hole in my puzzle where other people have beautiful roses.”
Today is Mother’s Day!
And our mamas may look very different—We look very different!
Some of these mamas adopted us, some of us adopted them. Maybe we are mamas of pets and adopted aunts—maybe we are adopted daughters whose resemblance is more on a heart level than a physical one.
Some of us have our mama’s influence stamped on our hearts while they sit with Jesus waiting for us.
We have mama’s who teach us self-care and spiritual-care, wise mentors who show us how to walk on paths they have already been down.
We have mamas in many areas of our life. The Lord knew we would need more than just our earthly mamas to make it through.
We need to learn and pour into each other wherever we can, and this day is about honoring the hearts of women who nurture and protect those around them—the ones who birth something in us; or birthed us.
It’s about acknowledging the amazing goodness of God’s creation and all its difference. It’s even about acknowledging the goodness of God to care and nurture and provide that for us in a tangible way.
There is no perfect example of mothering or motherhood—just hearts doing their best to steward and honor what was given to them. And sometimes those women who step in aren’t our birth mamas, but spiritual adoptive parents who see the holes and choose to bravely fill them.
So to all the women who have poured in to me openly without reserve—Thank you. Thank you for seeing the need and filling it with a Christ-like heart. Thank you for easing the healing processes. Thank you for honoring my relationship with my mama while being an extra hand in her daughter-raising adventure. Thank you with deepest gratitude and admiration to my own mama.
For those of us who are mamas in any way–Grace today. It’s not about how perfectly you do this thing, its about being faithful and obedient and trusting Him with the “Insta-filters.” It’s not about creating the perfect puzzle for showcase, but trusting God with the one we’ve got. It is far more perfect for us than we might think.
