Monday, November 7, 2011


A piece here. A piece there. Slowly but surely the picture comes into view. It isn't the picture that I strive for but the journey to get there. Confession: I am jigsaw puzzler.

My puzzling addiction began when I was a child sitting at the card table with the older women in my family. Over the Christmas holidays, a puzzle sat on the table waiting for someone to come calling. Cousin Betty and I actually became close over these puzzles. I learned about these women in my life. I learned that puzzling was more than finding pieces.

When the leaves begin to fall, my puzzles begin their journey from storage to a warmer room. I start with the border pulling out all of the pieces that will build the frame of the rest of the picture. Straight sides easily found and hooked one to the other. Slowly the picture begins to evolve. Sky at the top. Ocean at the bottom. One heck of a lot of blue. Gradually the rest of the pieces fall into place.

I'm pretty good at doing puzzles after all these years. I love the search, the find, the building. Getting to the last piece is sometimes disappointing, because I don't want it to end, rather like a good book. Piece by piece a story is told in picture. Piece by piece the puzzle journeys toward its return to storage.

Sorta like life isn't it. Easy to find the border, but it is journey to find the pieces that create the picture, that create our lives, are a little more difficult to find. We finish one picture and go on to the next. Working with other to create a beautiful work.

I'm on my sixth or seventh puzzle and ready to retrieve the Christmas puzzles in about a week. I only allow myself the luxury of working on the puzzle in the evenings. I refuse to let life pass while I sit at a table picking up little pieces.

We are the pieces that create the picture. I pray the picture be beautiful when it is finished.

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