Puzzles and cracked pots

       Puzzles.  Something I have always enjoyed.  The very almost hypnotic, comforting and very process full rummaging through the open puzzle box in order to locate the edges, to find that elusive last edge piece, to put together patterns and blocks of colour and eventually to fit those pieces together bit by bit, sometimes painstakingly, sometimes easily, sometimes frustratingly to create a total image or picture.  It's so super satisfying when you finally push in that last piece and you see the picture whole in front of you, after hours or maybe even days of trying to figure out the pattern.  You run your hand over the completed puzzle and it's pretty neat and tidy and organized....and by now, I'm rambling on with the best of them.  The last few weeks have really gotten the puzzle bug in me to work.  I'm not sure if it's been due to the weather, so up and down or due to the fact that I've been waiting by the phone (not always so patiently) for phone calls and answer to our many many questions or maybe it's because I love identifying patterns and shapes and putting them all together, but any way you look at it, I've got the puzzle bug!  There's a board right now on the floor beside me, with the edges nearly completed on my third puzzle in the last while.  If I have company, many people are drawn to just find one or two pieces and fit them in to the greater project and I love this communal aspect of puzzling.  I've always enjoyed word puzzles as well such as crosswords and word searches... but the feel of a puzzle piece in my hand, its uneven edges, the mystery as to its specific geographic location in the greater picture is alluring. 
        And so I am put to thinking... about life...my life.  Is it a puzzle? Is it a mystery?  I suppose in some ways it really is... we get edges placed around us, by family, by history, by circumstance, by rules, by time.  These frame us and give us shape and boundaries and limits and define us.  And little by little, pieces get picked up, tried, put down again, turned, sometimes forced (?), sometimes tossed to the side for picking up later again when patience is restored or when we finally realize that there actually is a place for that awkward piece.  I'm not entirely sure how this applies all to life, but I realize, as I sit and puzzle, that like the old analogy of us not always seeing the full image, the whole quilt but living on the backside where we just see the messy stitching and don't always know how things all connect and interweave to create the beautiful image on the other side, so too is a puzzle.  Sometimes it takes us a long time to figure it out, sometimes you just pick up the right piece and it's like magic, like a hot knife through butter, like that last slurp of a milkshake, so satisfying to place that piece.               But yes, maybe, a little like life - not always knowing why the pieces are shaped the way they are, not always understanding how they fit together, sometimes wanting to force pieces into places where they don't belong.  I think, a lot lately, about life, about the future, about the past, about things I've done, said, thought, things that I've wished I'd done, things I totally wish undone, but realizing that we can't change the past, but we can change how we move forward.  To take the time to sit back and admire the patterns in life, to hug your children extra close, to snuggle that extra minute, to catch your husband's eye over the heads of that stubborn little one and exchange a quick smile even while trying to correct and train in righteousness.  To appreciate beautiful sunrises, sunsets, flashes of smiles on people's faces, sweetness of kisses, warmth of the morning sun, enjoying a beautiful piece of music, meditating on the Word.  Sometimes to step back, to take a break, to give your mind a chance to rest from puzzling out why things are happening and just enjoy being in the moment.  My dear husband is so good at pulling me back, at making me look at the blessings in my life here and now and not to forever be worried about the future and what is coming, or may come or might not come.  I love him for this - that he is a great anchor in the midst of the uncertainties of our life at present.  And our God, our greatest anchor, our port in the storm, our hiding place, our strength when we are weak.  How does He fit in this puzzle?  He protects the edges, helps define who I am, helps me to appreciate His colours, His patterns for my life, even when I am just trying to jam pieces in here and there, or am throwing up my hands in frustration and not understanding the beauty of the image being created.  I pray for patience, wisdom, guidance, peace... oh that prayer for peace, an undying, constant request... Be still and know that I am God... He tells me this, whispers it in my ear, lays it on my heart, makes me meditate on that thought even in the darkest hours... even when I don't understand, even when I am so frustrated that I yell out loud and shake my fists in the air, even when I cry so hard my breath is difficult to catch and the piles of kleenexes are mounting, even when I feel so alone and broken...Be still, my heart, be still...The creator of the universe loves me and is making me into an image, His image bearer, humble, cracked, like a common clay pot, to be filled, to be a vessel for His glory.