I have been using my "spare" time during the quarantine to put together puzzles. First off, I didn't even have one. Lesson in life. If you want to put a puzzle together, you have to have one. Fortunately, a friend felt bad for me and sent me one by Amazon. When I looked at the puzzle, it was perfect for me. It was a picture of a craft room-a messy one at that. Just like mine. So, first puzzle had some very significant items that indicated it was "my" puzzle. I have spent the past several years doing quilting. There were quilts in the picture. There was a cat, a teapot and cup, butterflies and a clock. There was a lot of purple. So many things that connected to me, it was perfect.
So, with that puzzle, being the first, I decided to do in my bedroom. It was the only room that I could close the door and prevent the cats from thinking they needed to help when I was not at home. I began. I found all but one edge piece. I was convinced that piece was missing. How much is life like that? We get the edges all put together and feel like we are in a really good place, but there is something missing. Just one piece that makes the rest of the progress slow or you worry about that one piece. What if the manufacturer forgot it? What if it doesn't exist? It really takes a lot of trust and really faith to even start a puzzle. We start thinking all of the pieces are there, hoping, trusting. See, you need faith even to begin.
When I realized there was an edge piece missing, my sister told me, "It will show up. Just keep going." That was great sisterly advice. How often in life have we needed a sister to tell us to just keep going, keep moving forward? I have certainly needed that in more than just waiting for a puzzle piece, I have needed others to hold me up and keep me focused when giving up would have been a lot easier.
Now, back to the puzzle in the bedroom issue. That was the one and only time I did that. I decided I could check the floor for pieces that the cats would possibly knock down. Why? Because that puzzle called my name at night when I really needed to be sleeping. One night it would not let me rest until 4 am. Well, I learned quickly that I needed to put some distance between me and the puzzle. I moved to the living room for the next one.
Sometimes we look at the big picture. Sometimes we look at the one piece. Our focus changes with where we are at a particular time. Staring at the finish helps us to know what it is supposed to look like in the end, but if we only look at the completed project, we don't necessarily notice the really fine details that determine where the piece goes.
I assume the puzzle designer never expects the participant to put the puzzle together without being able to see the original picture. Sometimes the box only has part of the picture, sometimes they add a picture to the puzzle of the complete puzzle without the boxes distorted one. God doesn't expect us to put our own life together based on not knowing what the original looks like. We really are the puzzle and He is putting us together.
I have yet to have a puzzle put itself together. I have to put the pieces on the table and start by placing them where they need to go. Unlike God, I cannot know exactly what piece goes where, sometimes I am completely convinced that piece goes in a specific spot. It fits what seems like perfectly, then, when I try to put another piece there, I find there is not a piece to fit. I could force it to work my way, and what would the finished product look like? I don't even want to know, it would be a mess, for sure. But, when I remove that wrongly placed piece and put in the right one, the picture continues toward perfection. I liken this to people or situations in my life that seemingly fit. It looks like a perfect match, surely that person belongs there or that job, or that activity, etc. Then, I am made aware that it is ill placed. It doesn't go there. Sometimes removing the wrong piece is really hard. It sticks together and you really have to pull to get it off of there. That is like life. I tend to cling to the things that God is trying to remove. It is a painful process of removal.
So, here I am, this many years later from the quarantine puzzle period. Life has certainly taken on pieces I never expected. I wish I had kept up on all of the "puzzle" lessons I learned back then. I ended up with putting together a total of 13 puzzles. In fact, I believe I put the last one together then night before my shoulder surgery. That night was the first night I actually spoke directly with Michael via text. He called me that next morning prior to my surgery, and the rest is history.
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