What's the purpose of all the broken pieces?

Growing up, I hated puzzles. I could never get the pieces to fit. Even though the box had a perfect image on the front, I could never seem to get my pieces fit quite the way I envisioned. For that reason, I usually ended up angrily throwing the pieces back into the box and walking away to pick up a simpler game, like Solitare. 

Now that I am older, I still hate puzzles. Whenever I pull them out, I quickly get assistants to put them together for me. They produce an anxiety in me. What if, despite my best efforts, they still don't fit together?

Lately, I feel like my life is like a puzzle. Lots of pieces, thrown together. However, unlike a puzzle, the pieces don't seem to quite fit. Some of them are broken. Fragments of friends, shards of family, blunt edges of dreams and small pieces of hope. Where do they all go? 

Maybe life is less like the puzzle, which is waiting for just the right arrangement of the pieces. Maybe it is more like a mosaic. Broken pieces, some to be discarded, but many there to be put together, arranged and rearranged. The beauty of a mosaic is that it combines things from multiple sources--- jewels and things that were once discarded, and puts them together to make a beautiful arrangement. Mosaics made out of the most delicate pieces, like glass, can reflect light. 

So maybe thats the purpose of all the broken pieces. To come together, to reflect light. 

The Holding it In Pattern

For the past year, every time I have been out to the club, these words have echoed in my ear. They say “tonight, I want all of you tonight. Give me everything tonight. For all we know, we might not last tomorrow, lets do it tonight!” Then a girls incomprehensible mumbling takes over, until Ne-Yo comes back even stronger telling me to “grab somebody sexy”. That part, I agree with. The former, however, makes me deeply uncomfortable.

The idea of giving one person, one job, one goal, one whatever, everything, is deeply unsettling to me. Like putting your eggs in one basket, if they drop you, or you drop it, what do you have? Nothing. You gave everything, though. I feel like the holding back pattern is one that I’ve adopted. I have been reluctant to give all of myself to my endeavors. Whether that means not giving all of myself to God, not giving all of myself in social or romantic relationships, or not giving all of myself to a goal by being over committed, I am reluctant to give one thing everything, all at once. That seems like a fast track to being let down…. No matter how enticing Ne-Yo and Pitbull make it sound.

What about you? Are you in the process of giving your all to a person, place or thing? How does it feel? 

The Holding Pattern

              Recently I’ve felt like I’ve been stuck. Having accomplished all of my goals, I am unsure about what motivates me. With nothing to strive for, and limited enjoyment with what I have, I have been feeling like I am in a holding pattern. Just like the planes, going in a circle, waiting for the right time to move. But this time, the time cannot be determined by me. Just like the planes, who need messages from above (air traffic control) and below (the landing crew), I feel like I am still waiting on signs from God and the world about where and when to move.

              A lot of people have been dismissive of this. They call it a funk, a mood, a depression. They call it ungreatful. “If I had what you had…” However, I do not think its my fault, or that it is necessarily a problem. The holding pattern is not a punishment for delinquent planes. It is something that many planes go through. Air traffic control must find them a time to land that will put them out of proximity to other planes. The ground staff must prepare the gates, so that when they land, there is something to usher them into their destination.  Like the holding pattern, I feel that the only thing for me to do is wait. Wait and see what the next sign is. And I am learning to be ok with it. After all, a holding pattern still means you are flying, right?