Have you ever tried to put together a thousand-piece puzzle? With no box or picture to show you where the pieces go? There’s this jumbled pile of hues and patterns and images, and some of them are obvious while others might be miniscule specks of color. It easy to begin the puzzle, organizing the shapes, sliding together the edge pieces that make up the framework of the picture. Then you have hundreds of mismatched patterns that you know fit together somehow to create a beautiful artwork. But you don’t know what it is supposed to be. What does it look like? How do these pieces work together to create a masterpiece? Looking at that pile is defeating and sometimes you want to grab the whole pile and throw it back in the box and give up. Sometimes you want to take all those pieces and shove them haphazardly on the floor in frustration. Sometimes you press on and manage to match two or three parts and the beginning of a picture forms, and you have hope. Some days you just sit and stare at the pieces trying to figure out what goes where. Some days you stare at the pieces blankly, just a jumbled mess in front of you. Some days the puzzle sits dormant and you don’t even look at it. But you press on, because at the end you know there will be something beautiful.  Read more... (843 words, estimated 3:22 mins reading time)

The words fly out of my mouth before I think, a response of frustration to the pesterings of my six-year-old. “I am trying to nap, and I’m getting no sleep because of YOU.” Big eyes search my face questioning, a hesitation, a quavering voice, “But Mom, I need your help.” My irritation breaks. My words have pierced the heart of my child. My tone critical. Once again, I am broken. Drawing him up onto my lap, I whisper my sorrows to him, apologizing for using harsh tones and accusing him. His head melds into my shoulder, “I forgive you, Mommy.” How humbling those words are from my child.  Read more... (272 words, estimated 1:05 mins reading time)