The Great Puzzle Maker

“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” -Dr. Seuss

I've often heard of life to be like a path where you can only see one step in front of you. As you walk, you see the steps you've taken and you see the paths that you've crossed and the people you have met along the way and it is really quite beautiful. 

And while I think life is a lot like a path where you only get a bit of light for your next step, I have found that in my own journey, God creates life like he would a puzzle.

There are pieces everywhere and I work on one section for awhile, thinking I have hit a breakthrough, when another section cries out answers so I turn to it. And I work on section after section, I try to pair piece with piece and I don't see what I am making until it is complete.

(You could also say it's like one of those connect the dot things but I like the puzzle illustration better)

God, the Great Puzzle Maker, has been making sections in my own life that I thought would be the breakthrough, the eureka moment. The thing that gave my life hope, meaning, beauty, laughter... But, instead, he pulled me aside, asked me to set down those pieces and pick up new ones.

I don't really get it. I get that I must trust my Puzzle Creator because I can think of account after account in my own life and others where some pieces came together that made us fall in awe of how great He is and works things out, but sometimes it's hard to set down the puzzle pieces that you really like.

You know, the ones that are shiny and your favorite color and give glimpses of the future you've always dreamed of. Each piece has a bit of a picture that you would like to see in its completion.
It has been hard to set down those pieces. Hard to trust once I walked away from the pieces and started working on other ones. I tried clinging tightly to the pieces saying that I could make it work. That I was almost there; the picture was almost complete.

And then gently the Great Puzzle Creator whispered, "Let go Savannah. I want you to work on these pieces for awhile."

And I'm gonna be honest: the pieces I am working on now are fifty shades of brown and don't look as fun and enticing as the pieces I just let go of. 

But I started working on them, creating pictures with them and finding where they fit. I still caught myself looking over at the pieces I was working on; the ones that were shiny and my favorite color gave glimpses of the future I've always dreamed of. 

I lusted after them, cried for them, longed for them.

But I can't do that anymore. I can't cry over what could have been because I only have what is. My present, my right now, are these brown puzzle pieces.

And all I can do, all I must do, is trust that my Great Puzzle Creator, the one who had a plan for a young, virgin, engaged girl over two thousand years ago and who has a plan for me, will let me one day look back and see how the brown pieces fit in with the whole puzzle. And they made it beautiful. They made it complete.