Together
Life is like a puzzle.
There are many pieces, and they come together slowly, through time, trial, and error.
We tend to start with the corners. They’re the easiest to recognize, the ones that give us something solid to build from. If life had corners, maybe they would be faith, marriage, children, and community. From there, the edges begin to take shape as we learn how those pieces connect, forming the outline of a life we are still in the process of seeing.
The middle is harder.
Most of us are working without the box: no image to reference, no certainty about what the finished picture looks like. Only God sees the whole. We move piece by piece, limited in perspective, sometimes unsure if what we’re holding even belongs. And yet, in small ways, we’re given glimpses of the big picture, just enough to keep us going.
It is frustrating when pieces don’t come together the way they seem like they should. But then, there’s a sudden satisfaction when one finally clicks into place.
We’re wired for this; building, searching, making sense of what’s in front of us. And we aren’t just assembling a puzzle, we’re part of one. A man and woman fitting together, lives overlapping and shaping one another, making room for more.
And just when it all starts to come together, a small hand reaches in and pulls it apart. Puzzles are meant to be broken, they’re a reminder that broken doesn’t mean finished.
Some days the pieces feel few and manageable. Other days, scattered and endless. But the work is the same: return, try again, keep building, have faith.
Together, piece by piece, something is forming—whether we can see it yet or not.
