I like jigsaw puzzles, in theory at least. My first instinct is to say that I enjoy doing them. I am drawn to them whenever I go by them in a store, yard sale or closet. I say closet, because that is typically where my puzzles end up, in storage having never been done. I walked past one this morning that is stored with Christmas decorations and hasn't been put away yet. It prompted me to think about how whenever I see one I like, such as the 1000 piece puzzle of Yoda made up of tiny images from
Star Wars, that I ought to work on getting it put together, perhaps even glue it and hang it on the wall of my study.
Once I began thinking of puzzles, it occurred to me that doing a jigsaw puzzle is a lot like life. For one thing, I believe it is common to be inspired by a picture, often something we see in someone else's life, and think that would be awesome to do. But what we really want is to have that on our wall, to feel the accomplishment or hear the praise when someone sees it and thinks,
Wow, I bet that took a long time to complete, or,
I can't imagine how hard that was to do. What we really don't want is the hours devoted to little or nothing else, the strain, the frustration and the effort it takes to actually put all the pieces together, get them glued and frame it. So we avoid those near impossible challenges that we are afraid we won't have the time, energy or resources to complete. Or worse, we begin them and then some time later have to admit we don't care enough to do or have what it takes and have to scrap the project, break apart the work that we've already done and put the dream back in the closet. If we don't, we have to walk by the unfinished work regularly and hear the voice that says
if it doesn't get finished, something necessary to the puzzle will be messed up or lost and feeling like a failure for not finishing what was started. At the same time, we really don't want it to be too easy. That would be boring, and there's no sense of pride and accomplishment in putting together a puzzle a child could complete.
There are things I do enjoy about jigsaws, when I actually make the time to work on one. Like how the subconscious does more of the work. I think it's pretty cool how you can grab a piece and slap it into place before your conscious mind catches up with the logic of the move. Only once the piece slides into it's ordained slot do we really register how the way the edge of the light saber matches with the tip of the blade in the piece above it in such an obvious way. On the flip side, there are all those times when we try to logic out the next piece and grab up choices from the piece pile that have lines that look right, but are so often no quite right. And am I the only one who sometimes tries to force a fit? Hey, that should really go there!
Trying to force the image together never works, but still I always try. Like with life, no matter how much or how carefully you prepare by grouping together the parts, the corners, the edges, all the pieces with Yoda green in an area next to the ones with Jedi robe brown, putting the puzzle together never goes according to plan or as smoothly as we want. Still, even when it seems too much and all the pieces left to be joined make us feel overwhelmed, we can only put in one piece at a time. It all comes down to the next piece, the next right step, that eventually conquers the challenge. But sometimes when that one hole isn't coming together, if we step back and look at a different area of the puzzle we can make progress that leads to be able to do the part where we were stuck.
One of the things that make it interesting to work on a puzzle with someone else is that we have different approaches. When I do a puzzle, I prefer to keep the box with the picture in view so I can gauge progress and study the image. Each time I examine the photo I get a better idea of how the details go together and what I might can do next. I haven't done as many puzzles with Leah as part of me would like to, but I suspect she's more of a mystery motivated puzzler. She's been doing these cross-stitch puzzles on the computer, and her favorites are the ones where she doesn't know what the final picture will even look like. She enjoys trying to figure it out as it comes together. There are those who always seem to work more from the shapes of the pieces themselves than the portion of the picture on them. Some are always going to want to work on their favorite part of the image first, what drew them to want to do that puzzle in the first place, or maybe it's the part that looks easiest that they start with, while others want to work out the challenging sections first, or save their favorite part for last so that they have something to look forward to and keep them motivated and hoping it will get easier rather than harder. Each different approach has it's own strengths and weaknesses, and combining techniques through teaming up with someone with a different perspective and process can help tremendously.
There is intense joy as the puzzle comes together. The sense of accomplishment at finally finding that one piece that avoided detection for hours is amazing, and there can be a great sense of pride at the progress made, even before the puzzle is half finished. At the same time, the frustration at getting stalled during those times when no pieces seem to fit and you begin to feel like the company messed up and gave the pieces for a different puzzle entirely is maddening. If you're like me, there will be times when you want to tear it all apart while screaming that nothing fits. The pulse quickens as the possible solution is found and elation or despair ensue as we plop it into the hole and see if it works. When it all comes together, the feeling is awesome, and as much as I get frustrated and feel inadequate, the more difficult the puzzle the more of a sense of accomplishment when looking down at the completed picture after the last piece is put in place. It doesn't take long though before it all fades, and even if it is glued together and saved for display and posterity, there is little satisfaction in trying to live on the joy of past puzzles put together. A new box must be opened, another puzzle must be begun.
Finally, putting a jigsaw puzzle together is a lot like life in that no matter how good you are at working out the different challenges, at seeing the image and how it should come together, no matter how hard you try, it can't be done if it's not all there. As satisfying as success is, there is nothing more frustrating than putting the last of your pieces in place and seeing the hole that screams that something is missing. Nothing else matters. Nothing already done satisfies. No one displays the puzzle and proudly points to the hole in the image. We tear the place apart, looking under the couch, checking the empty box, and pray that the puppy didn't eat the missing piece. We can't be satisfied until it is found. The more we look, the more despair sets in and what we were able to do turns sour. We keep looking until it is found, or we scrap it all in disgust and rage at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes we try to make or buy a substitute piece. Puzzle Warehouse has a page on their website devoted to tips and solutions to finishing the puzzle when a piece is missing.
That missing piece and the miriad ways we try to solve the problem (Seriously, how many times can you pick up and check and empty box before finally accepting the piece isn't magically going to appear in a place you've already looked?) can mess us up badly. We ignore everything else in life, consumed with filling that hole. We try to fill it with things that were never designed to do so. Driven by the need we try anything and everything, becoming slaves to the emptiness. Some things seem to fit at first, but as time goes on, we see the gaps and buckling in life from a forced fit that isn't right. What once looked like the answer begins to fall far short or does damage. But unlike with a puzzle, if we begin with the critical piece, everything else comes together or we discover the perfect image can be made without them.
We are born with a piece missing, that special relationship with our Creator that no relationship, success, substance or material can ever fill. But our Creator made a way for us all to receive what is missing, and when we receive that relationship and start every puzzle with that piece as the anchor, life comes together and becomes worth living. The other pieces click into place, or Daddy makes the missing appear, repairs the broken, and changes the image to make it all work. Life can be worth living, and the joy of finding the missing piece can be ours. We can stop trying to make things fit that don't. We can be set free from the emptiness and all we've tried to fill it with. The missing piece, the answer to every puzzle in life, is found in Daddy's great love for us, in the work of the Son and the power, wise guidance and comfort of the indwelling Spirit. Relationship with our Creator is the beginning and ending of what makes life come together, what makes it worth living and what transforms us into the image that is pleasing in the sight of Him, ourselves and others.
This site is free. If this blessed, helped and or informed you, the best thing you can do is pass it on via the social buttons below. And please subscribe or follow Unshackled Life Ministries on Facebook.
Unshackled Life Ministries is grateful for every person that reads the daily Unshackled Moments, the weekly Unshackled Echo and or listens to the Audio Messages. I want to thank those who have clicked "like" on something that blessed or ministered to them on social media, commented on the blog or replied to an email subscription. It is encouraging to know that God is using this ministry to help and bless others. Please remember that if God used something from this ministry to help, encourage or bless you, it could also bless someone else. Would you help get the devotions and sermons to more people by sharing this? Hitting the share button or forwarding this to a friend will help us reach more people with the good news of freedom and the encouragement to live an Unshackled Life. Thank you and God bless.
