Thursday, August 25, 2011

Picking up Pieces


I’m a big picture person.



Its not that I don’t appreciate the finer points…. I love carefully crafting icing petals on sunflower cupcakes and neatly organizing tiles to create a vibrant table mosaic. I love the little touches that take something from average to extraordinary… but I NEED a global view. I need to look at the whole picture from 10,000 ft. up and understand why. I need to know how it fits and what it affects and why it matters. I want to know the goal, the destination, the purpose, the vision…



It’s very difficult for me to walk forward without a blueprint. I know that God has a mysterious wonderful plan for my life … but I don’t see it. I can’t touch it, or taste it… or find it. I don’t know what it is or where I’m going. I don’t know what my future holds or what my purpose is.


Without a big picture to hold everything neatly together, things in my life feel Disconnected. Like Partial Floating Fragments of something… All I have are seemingly random experiences. Flashes. Like fireworks that quickly dissolve into a plume of smoke in the dark night sky. Just Traces of something. Memories. Events in the Past.

And it always brings me back to the question… where I am going?



I long for connectivity. For all these glimpses and dabblings to find unity and intentionality. To be nicely knitted together into an intricate and vibrant tapestry. To have more than just a handful of colorful loose threads slipping through my fingers. They might be beautiful threads… but what good are they? What use are they? I want to know the end product.



And my frustration grows. I cannot see the outside of the puzzle box to know what I’m working towards. I don’t know if these threads, these experiences will ever amount to anything. Will they become a quilt.  Will they have a purpose. Or are they just what they are. Pieces without a puzzle. Fragments of fabric. Ever Unfinished.


weheatit.com



Even without any point of reference, I continue trudging onward. Picking up pieces, and threads and trying to find places for them. Trying to tie them together or sew them messily into something. Trying to guess what the end might be. I trudge on… picking them up, yearning for an image to appear. Trying to find meaning in them. Hoping for an end product of substance.