Major and Breakthrough

I don't know what it is about working those 1,000 (or more) piece jigsaw puzzles.
I LOVE it.
We're talking, I get obsessed once I start one.
 But obsession aside, it's very soothing to me.

I guess it's also the fact that you have to put your hands on every single piece and slowly but surely you begin to see the picture form.
And finally, you place that very last piece, stand back and compare your work of art to the picture on the top of the box.

Maybe it's the slow, methodical pace in which I must work.  It forces my always working brain to slow down.

Maybe it just reminds me of my childhood.

My mom and dad both worked them with us.  And it always seemed we worked them in the winter, on the floor in front of the fireplace.  I just have some warm, fuzzy memories.
 We would lay out a giant piece of cardboard and start on it.  All through the week, family members would pass by and spend a little time here and there working on it.

My best memory is when someone would find the one piece that would connect the part they were working on with my dad's and he'd yell in triumph, "Major Breakthrough!"
It's a tradition that I proudly carry on in his place to this day.

Last Christmas break, I picked up my puzzle working after years of not working one.  I don't understand why I ever stopped.  I think I ended up working 5 last winter.
Also, I have the BEST kitchen table for working them.

So today, my mom and I went shopping to spend our gift cards we got for Christmas, (we did good!) and she brought me a new puzzle when she got to my house.

 I got real excited!  I started it after Stewart and I ate supper tonight.
I pushed my plate aside and took the top off the box (I may or may not have smelled the pieces as well) and pretty much zoned out and started.
 My hubby loves and understands me. He just got up, did the dishes, kissed me on the cheek and said, "have fun".  I have no idea where he went or what he was doing.  It had begun.

As I was working, my thoughts begin to drift.  I started thinking about how our life can seem like a puzzle at times.  All the pieces are mixed up in the box and we have no idea where they go or how they fit together. Or even if they DO fit together.

Just taking the top off and peering in the box at the jumbled mess can seem overwhelming and stressful.  Suddenly, I  see some end pieces and think, "oh, I can do this part".

 

Then I see some words or part of a dog or house and
immediately get those attached.

But then there are the sky, water, sunset or dirt pieces.  None of those have any defining characteristics so I either put them back in the box or in a pile all by themselves.
I hope that somehow I'll figure out that part at some point.  I bypass it because it's too hard.  Those are the parts that are usually the most beautiful and what brings the whole thing together.

Then there are the pieces I grab and say, "A HA! you little sucker! I know EXACTLY where you go!" But it doesn't go.  No matter how much I try to make it fit, even flipping the pieces over to see if they connect.  After a sigh of frustration, I'm forced to throw it back in the box only to pick it up later and place it never even remembering that was the piece that gave me so much trouble.

I started thinking how my life seems like a puzzle sometimes.
Especially right now.
Trying to make everything I want to do and wish for fit and make sense.
One day, I have faith that all the pieces are going to fit together.
Those undefined, weird pieces that I can't place will be placed by my Father.

After all, those are the most beautiful parts and bring the whole thing together.