Nothing like a beautiful weekend to get the kids playing. Our weather has finally dipped and is staying below 90 for good (we hope!!). Between running in an out of the house yesterday, one of the kids started to pull out a few puzzles. I’m pretty sure it was compelled by frustration of a certain Slow Walking brother being unfairly bumped out of the friendly front yard volleyball game. Okay, so maybe not as much friendly as sisterly. Sisterly action not too keen on a little brother joining in. Not the type of action this mom likes to see. (We’ve got lots of recovery going on around here!)
Once the kid started connecting pieces, everyone that walked by had to join in
… because how can anyone walk by a puzzle without looking for a few pieces. Before we knew it, we had done two puzzles and started the third. In the midst of apologies (“We’re sorry we left you out of the game.” a couple sisters said to their brother. “I’m sorry I kicked you.” a brother replied) and terrific moments of working together, Sister said,
“How do they make these things?”
“Oh, I know,” said Speed Police, “The puzzle people decide what picture they want then paste it on big sheets of cardboard then use a bigger machine to cut out all the pieces.”
“Can it be any picture?” Sister asked me.
“Sure…. I bet we could make one if you want,” I replied.
“That’s so cool. The picture is already made before the pieces are cut.”
Okay. So we all know that putting the pieces together reveals the picture. And it’s not rocket science to grasp that the puzzle is one piece before it is many.
It struck me as I watched them work how similar this is to life. God has the picture. All of it. From beginning to end. It is one picture that has been split into many pieces. Some days I feel like the box has been turned over and I’m wading through pieces all over and in my way. Other days I feel like I’m trying to fit two pieces together that look like they belong, but just don’t quite connect. As I considered God’s picture, it made me grateful that I don’t have to find or pull it all together. That God fits it all together. That He knows where each piece goes and what each piece represents. I’m also grateful that I’m not and never have to be the whole picture. He uses all the pieces, perfectly fitted together to create the whole.
As I looked at our finished product, I’m also grateful that God has no missing pieces.
At our house, very few of our puzzles have all their pieces.
It doesn’t help that we have a sticky fingered Future Hoarder of America in our house.
Disguised, he finds and hides.
Thanks for walking the puzzling road with me.
(I told Speed Police what I was thinking. She got excited, “When I look at a puzzle and see missing pieces, it makes me think about being like a puzzle. I have holes that can only be filled with Jesus.”
Oh, the lessons in a puzzle — in all our surroundings. Hmm… I wonder what laundry has to offer?!)