Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

faith & spirituality

An unfinished puzzle

The kids and I were playing with puzzles a few nights ago. Puzzles hold a special place in my heart. I remember spending weekend evenings with my grandparents playing board games and putting puzzles together. They would often have thousand-piece puzzles partially assembled on top of the bumper pool table and we’d take a few minutes or several every time we passed to try to place another piece.

On our honeymoon, Phil and I decided to buy puzzles as our souvenirs of the places we visited so that in the years to come, we could reminisce while spending quality time together. (Five and a half years and two kids later, most of those puzzles are still in their original packaging. I hold out hope for retirement, or at least a time when the kids won’t scatter the pieces to the floor.)

So, we’re putting puzzles together, the 4 1/2 year old, the 3-year-old and me, and we’re sorting the outside pieces of a Tinkerbell puzzle only to discover that we’re missing some of the outside pieces. I don’t know about you but when a puzzle piece is missing, it sort of drives me crazy. And if it’s an outside piece, I almost can’t go on with the puzzle.

With only a little bit of searching, we found the missing outside pieces and continued to put the puzzle together. (Correction: It was mostly me putting the puzzle together. Isabelle was handing me pieces and trying a few of her own while Corban was pulling all the other puzzles out of the bin and lining up which ones would be next.)

puzzle

© Dana Rothstein | Dreamstime.com

As we neared the end, we noticed another missing piece. It was nowhere to be found, so we “finished” the puzzle and put it back in the box.

Life, right now, feels like an unfinished puzzle. Some days it feels like a million-piece two-sided puzzle with missing pieces and no picture to guide us. I feel like God is watching us try to figure it out and isn’t giving us any help.

This is not true, though. I know that. God isn’t cruel. He’s good. And patient. And loving. Things that I’m not. He isn’t trying to frustrate us, although He may try to frustrate our plans for His better plans. We’re learning through this, even if the lessons are hard and well, frankly, they suck.

My husband has a job in Lancaster, which for us, is the first piece of the puzzle. And it IS a good thing. The commute, and the gas, is wearing on me. And the being without a car more often than not. And trying to entertain the kids for hours and hours and hours on end without losing my mind or patience. And still needing to ask our parents for help with rent and bills because my husband hasn’t reached full-time hours yet.

I am truly, truly grateful for what we have. We will not end up on the street. We will not go hungry. We have so, so much to be thankful for, and a house full of stuff we could give to others in need.

Some days, I wish it wasn’t so hard. That we’d get a glimpse of the picture. That another piece would fall into place.

I know people who have framed completed puzzles as artwork. I think that’s a neat idea. And my hope is that some day, we’ll be able to put this puzzle of life on display as one of many instances of God’s handiwork in our lives. Of a beautiful, wonderful picture of His grace.

“I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart;  I will tell of all your wonders.” (Psalm 9:1)

Have it your way

I’ve been reading a book that tells, in fiction style, stories of biblical men who led the Israelites out of Egypt and while wandering in the desert. They followed the Lord’s leading — a cloud by day; a pillar by night. When God moved, they moved. They didn’t know where they were going or how long they would stay once they got there, wherever “there” was, or whether they’d have water or food or shade. The Lord led them and they followed, totally dependent on His faithfulness and goodness.

And if your familiar with this story at all, you know that the people didn’t follow without complaint. They whined and complained and wished for slavery again even though they were free. And God answered even their whining.

He gave them what they asked, but sent leanness into their soul. — Psalm 106:15

A certain fast food burger joint made a name for themselves by telling customers: “have it your way.” Meaning, of course, that a customer could personalize and customize his burger to suit his tastes.

I wonder what this says about our mentality as a culture. Has having things “our way” made us lean in soul?

I often tell my kids, maybe not in the same words but with the same meaning, “Okay, have it your way.” As in, you don’t want to nap today? Okay, have it your way, but you’ll be in bed after dinner. Or, you don’t want to pick up your toys right now? Okay, have it your way, you’ll miss out on stories because you’ll be cleaning up?

This use of “have it your way” is completely different than what the burger chain intended. And I wonder if it’s what God meant when he gave the complaining Israelites what they asked for.

Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we say a version of this back to God: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

Some days, I feel like I’m fighting to have my way with the day and when I come to the end of myself, I throw up my hands and say, “Fine, God, have it Your way.” Where I want to be is in a place where I start the day saying, “Your will be done,” even if it means I deny myself what I want to do and instead do what the Lord leads.

Today, I have fought to get a few minutes on the computer — to blog, to read a few articles, to answer some e-mail. Instead, I’ve bought groceries, washed dishes, played games with the kids and now I’m in an epic battle with our son for a nap while fielding unending requests from our daughter about a snack. I only have so many hours before I have to start dinner and my husband gets home and then it’s bedtime routine and then I’m exhausted and there goes my day.

I was called to be a writer before I was called to be a parent, and both things are important to me. I will fight for both of them with everything I have but one will inevitably be the loser. (Honestly, all you author moms out there, I don’t know how you do it and I wonder if I’m doing this whole thing wrong.) And when I choose my kids and their urgent needs, a part of my writing life dies.

Saying to God, “Your will be done” is no easy or painless thing.

In another book I’m reading, the author describes this petition of the Lord’s prayer this way:

How different from the prayers of “help me get my way,” “make everything turn out the way I want it to” and “bless my projects” that we are so often disposed to offer! The more we are able to internalize this petition–“Thy will be done”–the more complete our journey to maturity in Christ.

So if asking God to give us what we want produces a leanness of soul, then asking for His will to be done must produce the opposite: a meaty, muscular faith and trust that can withstand the toughest of challenges.

Oh, how I’d much rather be a couch potato Christian. Instead God calls His followers to walk in faith, to exercise trust and to submit to His leadership.

Every day, we are faced with the same choice: to have it our way or to say to God, have it Your way.

So, which will it be?