Some friends and I are doing a study. One of the days had us exploring verses that talked about peace. What follows the mish mash of pictures and analogies that streamed through my head while digging in to the proverbial scripture banquet:
It struck me that peace can only be all or nothing. Peace --> all the pieces --> wholeness. Some people feel the void left by pieces that have fallen out of their picture. No peace. Other people have compiled the pieces they have into the best picture they can but something is still not quite right. No peace. Then there’s the fortunate few that have everything all nice and orderly…but life is not a stagnant thing. The future is unpredictable. Who knows what piece might get introduced that will mess the picture all up?
And as much as we hate to admit it, we can all be spaghetti sometimes. One big jumbled mess, and what affects one strand affects the whole. We may try to be pick up sticks (you can isolate one without bringing the whole pile down) or waffles (nice little compartments), but really, we’re not. We all have spaghetti days.
How then can we have peace? Faith.
I know people who have just the simple faith that everything will fall together. They don’t attribute it to anything grand or extraordinary, but they still have the faith to accept the pieces they cannot see. So even when things seem less than perfect, or when the pieces they can see aren’t gelling, they have faith that the final picture is in the making.
I’m with them, but I also believe that there’s a someone who has all the pieces. So I just leave it up to him. I have peace because I know he’s the one who designed the puzzle in the first place. He knows were all the little bits go, and his hands are big enough to hold them. – them and my big spaghetti mess.
Whether I currently feel as pretty as a picture, or whether I feel like I’ve fallen to pieces…for me, peace comes from trusting those hands.
I remember putting puzzles together when I was younger. I would prop up the box so I could see the picture. And then I would get to work. I loved it -- the moments when I would find piece after piece that fit together, and the little moments of triumph when I had to search and search for that pesky piece that just didn’t want to be found. There was joy in the process.
I think He takes joy in the process too. He cares about the pieces that are interesting. (Like the ones with words that are easy to place.) But he cares about the boring pieces too (like all black pieces that make up a night sky in a Schimmel puzzle).
But since I’m having a bit of a spaghetti day today… beyond the caring, there’s honestly a peace that comes from knowing that someone has all the pieces accounted for. They’re not all in place yet. But they’re not lost. I may feel like a mess. I’m well aware that my hands aren’t big enough. But they don’t have to be.
All the pieces --> wholeness --> peace.
No food fights today. I am one peaceful plate of spaghetti. (At least...I'm trying to be. )
I do not want the peace that passeth understanding. I want the understanding which bringeth peace. ~ Helen Keller