WHEN THE PUZZLE STARTS WITH MISSING PIECES

When I do a puzzle, I start with the assumption that I could end up with an incomplete picture.  Even when a puzzle has arrived on my desk unopened, fresh from the factory, there is a possibility that I could be missing a piece or more.  The "Unknowing" is part of the journey of puzzling... and maybe that is why I find it such a spiritual experience. 

I did this puppy puzzle yesterday that came with the note on the box that two pieces were indeed missing.  It was a puzzle I got from my Mom.  It is most likely older than I am.  These puzzles get extra special attention from me.  I feel like my life is wrapped up in its story.  This puzzle had a lot of very random cut pieces.  Very unique.  Not much uniformity in the cut pattern.  

I have been somewhat successful in filling in the missing pieces of my puzzles with a few pencil crayons and paper.  Most times, I can blend in the hole very well and it isn't even visible until you look real close.  I think I have lucked out for the most part.  The missing pieces I have had, so far, have been somewhat easy to fill in. 

I woke up this morning with a disturbing thought.  

"People really don't want to know the whole me; they only want to know the part of me that makes them feel good." 

I wonder if I am this puzzle that comes with these holes and it takes a lot of effort to fill them in.  Who is really up for that challenge?  Relationships are like a puzzle.  They are assembled over time.  Each interaction puts another piece into place.  Eventually with time, we can see a picture emerge.  Sometimes we stop assembling when we have enough of the picture for our own comfort and understanding.  Some pieces are harder to place than others and it is easy to quit mid process.  

I spent some time in the hot tub this morning pondering further what I felt about my revelation.  I came to another understanding.

"I don't need to be fully known to exist, but I may feel that to exist, I need to be fully known.  So what if my need to be fully known becomes more important than my need to exist?  I may find myself in a place where I will chose one or the other.  So right now... in that place, I chose to exist and surrender my need to be fully known."

I can understand why people with missing pieces or incomplete puzzles want to take themselves out.  Being a finished puzzle becomes more important than being a puzzle with missing or unplaced pieces.  The need to be known is more important than finding space to be valuable even in the unknownness.  

I can't say it won't still be a struggle for me.  I still want people to see me and know me as I am, not as I was or as they wish I could be.  But I can't control the rate at which others assemble the puzzle that is me.  I can only do what I can to make available the pieces for them when they are ready.   

MY LENTEN PUZZLES

 Most things with me start with an idea.  Lent is coming up and I wanted to do something to mark each day like I did with my Advent Calendar.  The seasons of Advent and Lent have become special times for me.  It's a long story for a different blog.   There are 45 days from Ash Wednesday to Good Friday.  I had this idea to pick up a 45 piece puzzle and assemble it during Lent.  It seemed like a way to mark time and build something as I journey through Lent.   

While on a trip to Edmonton today, I stopped in at Walmart to see if I could find a puzzle that might suit my Lent adventure.  I didn't find a 45 pc puzzle, but I found a box that contained three 49 piece puzzles.  I counted and discovered that next Saturday is 49 days to Good Friday.  I picked up the puzzles.  

When I got home, I found three Cobble Hill puzzle boxes and will use them to house the growing puzzles.  The puzzles are only 8" square, and will fit inside the boxes.  I got a corner piece from each puzzle for today's starter piece.  

Each day, I will find a puzzle piece that fits to the growing puzzle I have in the box.  Throughout Lent I will see three different puzzles grow. It will be like my Advent Calendar in that it will add to the enthusiasm of each day.  When Good Friday comes, the last piece will go in each puzzle.  

I want to finish this post with a poem I heard today.  A friend of the family passed away this month and his funeral was today.  I watched some of it on Youtube.  The man's grandson shared a poem.   It warmed my heart and was in line with the theme of my puzzles.  

 Here's the poem.  

The Farmer's Creed

I believe a man’s greatest possession is his dignity and that no calling bestows this more abundantly than farming.

I believe hard work and honest sweat are the building blocks of a person’s character.

I believe that farming, despite its hardships and disappointments, is the most honest and honourable way a man can spend his days on this earth.

I believe farming nurtures the close family ties that make life rich in ways money can’t buy.

I believe my children are learning values that will last a lifetime and can be learned in no other way.

I believe farming provides education for life and that no other occupation teaches so much about birth, growth and maturity in such a variety of ways.

I believe many of the best things in life are indeed free; the splendour of a sunrise, the rapture of wide-open spaces, the exhilarating sight of your land greening each spring.

I believe true happiness comes from watching your crops ripen in the field, your children growing tall in the sun, your whole family feeling the pride that springs from their shared experience.

I believe that by my toil I am giving more to the world than I am taking from it, an honour that does not come to all men.

I believe my life will be measured ultimately by what I have done for my fellow man, and by this standard I fear no judgment.

I believe when a man grows old and sums up his days, he should be able to stand tall and feel pride in the life he’s lived.

I believe in farming because it makes all this possible.