Puzzle Pieces

St. Angelo Bridge, Rome

Earlier in this time of pandemic quarantine, I put together two 1,000 piece puzzles, one of old time Rome, and the other of an Amalfi coast scene. This week, I worked on another one, this time of donuts. Yes, donuts, and I craved them each time I handled the pieces!

What if our lives begin as jumbled pieces in a box? The lid is opened, and, some upside down, others showing designs, we are lifted from the container. We are made to fit together in harmony, making a specific image, each piece bearing unique characteristics needed to complete that image. No other piece fits properly in our unique spot.

Creativity beckoning

A good family friend passed away recently. He was a good man, loyal to his family, faith community, and a wonderful GiGi to our shared grandchildren. His life, his puzzle piece, was lifted from the box of jumbled pieces, and the Puzzle Master, after putting other pieces in place, found the final resting place for him. He made it to his eternal home, where, together with other lives, it makes more sense now than before, a clearer picture. To God, at least. We miss his physical presence, remembering the days he could make us laugh or celebrate holidays together. We knew him as his unique puzzle piece, yet God had bigger plans.

We sense accomplishment, placing that last puzzle piece into its place, yet feel a bit nostalgic that this fun project has come to an end.

After a few days of admiring the donuts, I took the pieces apart, placed them back into the box, closed the lid, and wondered which way life goes. Do we start with the clear picture, and could it be that living together in a box in no certain order, touching the lives of others is more like Heaven? Maybe it’s both, or maybe it just depends. What do you think?

Which is it?

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