incomplete puzzle

The last several years I have bought a jigsaw puzzle as a Christmas gift for my wife and myself. We are just about finished with this one. When searching for a particular piece, and not finding it right away, the thought crosses my mind that it is a piece that never made it into the box... a missing piece of the puzzle. Unless the puzzle is truly defective, we eventually find that piece, either through perseverance or by chance. I have come to believe that life is like that but that nothing happens by chance. In several books I have read over the years by several authors ( Ravi Zacharias, Donald Miller, John Eldredge, to name a few) they speak about God's work on an epic, a tapestry, a weaving of which each of us and our lives are an integral part of the whole. Eventually, soon (for some) our part in that weaving is finished, although our contribution affects the rest of the weaving (and other lives) after we are gone.

 

"My Life is but a weaving

between my Lord and me;

I cannot choose the colors

He worketh steadily.

 

Oft times He weaveth sorrow

And I, in foolish pride,

Forget He sees the upper,

And I the under side.

 

Not til the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly,

Shall God unroll the canvas

And explain the reason why.

 

The dark threads are as needful

In the Weaver’s skillful hand,

As the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

 

He knows, He loves, He cares,

Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives His very best to those

Who leave the choice with Him." - Corrie Ten boom

 

Done