The puzzle's a sort of dynamic art exhibit. It sits completed upon my desk at home. Every day, I transport one piece of it to the job. Visitors can wonder about the content, as the central image is going to be the last portion that I rebuild.
Yesterday I tucked the daily piece into my winter jacket as I prepared to leave for work. It's an important ritual for me, and a key reason for investing the hours I did in the first place. Every morning when I set foot into my office, the first thing I do is set the piece into its place in the puzzle. Like rosary beads triggering Catholic schoolboy prayers, this gesture causes me to recite several important self-reminders as I begin my day.
- Today is not the most or least important day of my life. It's just one important piece to the puzzle.
- I am not better or worse than those around me. I'm about the same.
- I have a unique purpose.
- The best things are not accomplished in a day. They often take years, require patience and focus.
- I am a step closer to my goal. I will smile and make this day a good one.
When I reached into my pocket, the piece was gone.
Suddenly I remembered exactly why I had put the winter jacket on the rack years ago - small pockets that items slip too easily out of.
A pained reaction shot through me. Perfection was gone. Hours of planning and effort were defeated by the inability to complete a simple task. What a career and life metaphor!
In the next instant, I was back in control. There were a handful of spots that I could check to see where the piece fell. If it couldn't be found, so what? I could find something to fill the gap. More extremely, I could buy another copy of the puzzle and get a replacement. Or I could leave an opening, symbolic of the occasional human frailty and its inability to ruin a beautiful creation.
For now, I had a job to do. There was no use for worry or fretting.
Later that day, I fished all around my car, where some other items had slipped from my pockets earlier. Nothing. The prospect of recovering it on a pavement somewhere in the parking garage or the rain-soaked driveway at home looked much dimmer.
I got out of the car when I got home. As I closed the door my eye fell upon the place I'd been sitting.
THERE IT WAS! I cheered into the empty night.
My own butt had gotten in the way and caused undue hardship. Another metaphor.
The day's lessons?
It's easy to take meaningful things for granted, not realizing how foolish that is until it's gone. Sometimes God gives us a second chance to get it right, and we do right by devoting ourselves to it. Things are rarely as bad as our first instinct says. We will still succeed as long as we don't lose our
2 comments:
I love this. And am reblogging.
Been missing your blogging sweetie. Glad to see you back in the fold!
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