Puzzled.

I prepared Sunday’s lesson for the elementary kids with a tightness in my heart. Jesus raises his friend, Lazarus, from the dead! God loves you. God can make something good come from something bad. Hope.

Hallelujah! Right? Yes . . . hallelujah.
But, here’s the problem. I couldn’t get Parker’s face out of my mind. He would probably be there. How do I enthuse about hope to a boy whose dad died two months ago?

The curriculum writers gave me the words . . . at least, some words. Life is like a puzzle. When we only have a few pieces, it can be hard to understand how God is working in your life. But we trust that He can see the bigger picture.

This is an analogy I can run with. I LOVE puzzles. I have as long as I can remember. Hovering over the pieces strewn on the floor for hours. Legs tucked underneath me in a way that would cause severe pain now. Oh, the satisfaction of getting the last pieces in! Exactly like the picture on the box.

First, find all the edge pieces and link them together to complete the perfect frame. (If you put your puzzles together without this step, I’ll help you find counseling.) This is the framework for our existence. Our genetics, DNA, the chance meeting of our parents . . . all of these take time and sorting out.

Our environment, education, health, personality, experiences. Piece after piece. Choices we make. Things that happen out of our control. It’s not always pretty. Sometimes we force a piece where it doesn’t belong. Even though it didn’t seem quite right at the time we pressed it into place, we can’t see where it really belongs until the right piece calls for its spot.

There are mangled pieces. Tiny holes and gnawed edges courtesy of your cat. The picture separating from the cardboard. Worst of all . . . missing pieces.

This is where the life/puzzle analogy falls apart. The kind of puzzles I know and love come in a factory-sealed box. A vibrant image of the finished product shines on the top. The number of pieces is clearly stated so I can see what’s involved. And . . . all of the pieces are in the box.

Our lives are more like a brown paper bag full of puzzle pieces with no glossy photo of what the end result should look like. Before we’re able to add pieces ourselves, we rely on other people–family, friends, and complete strangers–to fill in critical areas. Some of these are put together with thought and attention. Some are banged in with a mallet. Hardest of all are the missing pieces.

In life, pieces will always be missing. Sometimes the empty spots aren’t very noticeable. Sometimes, as Parker is painfully aware, they’re ugly and gaping.

Puzzles with missing pieces, though, can still be completed. Those empty spots blend into the big picture and become available openings. Fill them with sweet memories and new beginnings.

Hope.