The Missing Piece
I've been sitting at the dining room table for hours doing two extremely mindless things:
1. Putting together a jigsaw puzzle
2. Vegging out on Netflix (judge me on the Netflix).
I twist and turn each piece hoping it fits in the right spot and frustratingly chuck it on the pile next to me of all the other pieces that don't fit or don't fit right now. And the puzzle is coming together quite nicely except for one thing: a missing piece.
The one you comb through the box for, but as you get to the end realize hasn't been in the box the whole time. The one which is so frustrating because you know it should be there but somehow it's escaped you. The one you hope you find tucked under the table cloth (where you knew it was all along) and joyfully put in place and admire your handiwork.
The one I'm currently looking for as I come to the end of my internship and press on towards graduation with the, "So what's next?" question looming above my head. The question I have no sweet clue how to answer. There's so much possibility to what this missing piece could look like, but for now it looks like I'm combing through the box trying to find it; digging frantically, hoping, wishing, yearning to know where it is.
I always love that this is the beauty of faith (Hebrews 11:1), that this is the beauty of trust (Proverbs 3:5-6), that this is the beauty of the continuous unknown stage of my twenty-something life where God only knows (both literally and figuratively) what's coming next, that there is an element of risk taking that I know will come into play. So for now, I finish out my internship. For now I return back to Kingswood next week for internship debrief and graduation. For now I return home at the end of April.
For now I continue to dig through the box for this missing piece of, "So what's next?" and casually peak under the tablecloth every so often, hoping to find it was there all along. I continue to dive into the beauty of faith and trust in a God who is faithful and who I can trust because why should I start to doubt him now? And so I continue to pick up the pieces that don't fit and chuck them aside. I pick up the ones that are "maybes", but then chuck them into the "not right now" pile. And soon enough, I will pick up the one that at first I have to twist and turn and try to fit into the puzzle, but will rejoice and praise God for when it fits and admire the handiwork it took to do so.
1. Putting together a jigsaw puzzle
2. Vegging out on Netflix (judge me on the Netflix).
I twist and turn each piece hoping it fits in the right spot and frustratingly chuck it on the pile next to me of all the other pieces that don't fit or don't fit right now. And the puzzle is coming together quite nicely except for one thing: a missing piece.
The one you comb through the box for, but as you get to the end realize hasn't been in the box the whole time. The one which is so frustrating because you know it should be there but somehow it's escaped you. The one you hope you find tucked under the table cloth (where you knew it was all along) and joyfully put in place and admire your handiwork.
The one I'm currently looking for as I come to the end of my internship and press on towards graduation with the, "So what's next?" question looming above my head. The question I have no sweet clue how to answer. There's so much possibility to what this missing piece could look like, but for now it looks like I'm combing through the box trying to find it; digging frantically, hoping, wishing, yearning to know where it is.
I always love that this is the beauty of faith (Hebrews 11:1), that this is the beauty of trust (Proverbs 3:5-6), that this is the beauty of the continuous unknown stage of my twenty-something life where God only knows (both literally and figuratively) what's coming next, that there is an element of risk taking that I know will come into play. So for now, I finish out my internship. For now I return back to Kingswood next week for internship debrief and graduation. For now I return home at the end of April.
For now I continue to dig through the box for this missing piece of, "So what's next?" and casually peak under the tablecloth every so often, hoping to find it was there all along. I continue to dive into the beauty of faith and trust in a God who is faithful and who I can trust because why should I start to doubt him now? And so I continue to pick up the pieces that don't fit and chuck them aside. I pick up the ones that are "maybes", but then chuck them into the "not right now" pile. And soon enough, I will pick up the one that at first I have to twist and turn and try to fit into the puzzle, but will rejoice and praise God for when it fits and admire the handiwork it took to do so.
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