In Pieces ... the Slow Steady Work of God
Exasperated from trying to fit the pieces together of my 1,000-piece puzzle, I push away from the table asking myself why I thought this would be a good activity during COVID. It seemed like a good idea when I found it on Amazon. I read that people who work on jigsaw puzzles are generally happier. Perhaps this is because while working on a puzzle, one is forced to be in the present, and all other thoughts are pushed to the background. Maybe it’s the feeling that one has control over something, this is especially appealing during this time when one seems to have no control over anything. Maybe it’s seeing a picture come forth from a jumble of seemingly disparate pieces or working on a project with others (which I did not do). Whatever the reason, I decided I would spend some extra time I had working on a jigsaw puzzle. I chose a puzzle of the beautiful little seaside town of Positano, Italy, an enchanting place that I visited a year and a half ago. Certainly, there would be joy in thinking about my time in that picturesque town.
Initially, I enjoyed putting the edges of the puzzle together and identifying and piecing together the areas with distinct colors or patterns. But then, I reached the center where the pieces all seemed to be the same color, nothing distinguishing one from the other, and I became frustrated and deflated. I became convinced that I would never finish the puzzle, and its presence on my table would remain a constant reminder of yet another thing I could not do. But then, I decided to tediously try to fit each separate piece to the existing completed puzzle and began to see a beautiful image emerge. I experienced little feelings of satisfaction when pieces fit together in ways I couldn’t have imagined, and I had this surprising awareness that this is exactly how God works in me. God is ever so patiently and lovingly knitting me together in ways that I never could conceive of and making me whole by using what seems like meaningless bits of the wrong puzzle. As Fr. Tri often says, we must make room for the slow, steady work of God in our lives.
The events of each day, how I react to them, the people I meet, those I interact with, those who chafe at me, those whom I love and the ones who hurt me, all shape me and determine who I am. I understand that I am always a beloved child of God and so is everyone. Each piece of me, even the pieces that seem malformed, the ones that I am most ashamed of, those that don’t seem to fit anywhere, and the times when I seem so far away from him, God uses to make a beautiful new creation.
During this seemingly universally painful time, a time that many are referring to as "end-times," I often find myself living in a state of confusion mixed with sadness and grief, especially other people’s grief. Everyone I know seems to be carrying exhaustive burdens. Since March and the “shelter in place” orders, I have had dear friends lose children or parents (some to COVID) or their sanity (literally), several friends and loved ones are suffering from cancer and other illnesses, and so many seem to be declining mentally and physically. Social ills (riots, racism, poverty, hate, and division) seem to keep growing, and the natural world seems to be disappearing. I often find it hard to hear God’s voice. And yet, I have never felt a deeper call to faith - to trust, to trust in the hope of God's promise that He will always be with us. We are not alone. He has not deserted this world. He is creating something exquisite in us and in this world through our lives, even if it all seems like a jumbled mess of meaningless pieces.
The gift of this puzzle was not, as I had imagined, personal satisfaction at being able to put something together, but rather the awareness of God constantly creating me and all of life, anew. It is the reminder to trust in him, to know that even when I feel everything is hopeless and I am lost in the weeds, he is with me, making something beautiful with my life. I hear God whispering in my ear, "I am here Mary, I am at work in you, you don't know what I am doing in you, but trust me, it is good, and I love you in the becoming.”
You formed my inmost being;
you knit me in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, because I am wonderfully made;
wonderful are your works!
My very self you know.
My bones are not hidden from you,
When I was being made in secret,
fashioned in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw me unformed;
in your book all are written down;
my days were shaped, before one came to be.
Psalm 139: 14-16
Mary Schimmoller