I absolutely adore a great puzzle, but I’m about in over my head. 

I’d like to blame Youngest Daughter, who picked out a few puzzles for Christmas and said I could have the final say. Make it a surprise! So this whole ordeal really is my fault. 

It has been a work in progress since February and has turned into more project than pleasure. If we weren’t so far along, we’d take it apart and send it to the thrift store.

I can only hope all the pieces are still there.

It is a portrait of a one-eyed teenage monster taking a selfie in the cracked bathroom mirror of his high school. The overall impression of his fur is red, but varying shades of burgundy, stripes of gray shadow, flashes of bright geranium, and highlighted streaks of yellow all meld together, making matching up pieces a difficult task. The monster’s fur also has whitish spots mottled throughout, adding another layer of colored pieces that could fit in any number of places.

In the early days of working on it, after completing the edge pieces, Youngest Daughter and I had to encourage each other. We both went through spells of giving up. All of the colors are blended and vague, the perfect tones to represent a dingy high school bathroom and an apathetic teenage monster that could use a swipe or two of deodorant in those hairy pits.

There have been hopeful moments when we are almost certain that a piece is going to fit in a particular place. The colors appear to line up correctly, as do the shapes of the edges. 

“It fits!” we would exclaim, only to discover that we had wedged a piece in the wrong spot.

The right spot never actually looked right, but when it fell into place, so smoothly and easily, there was no doubt that it had found its way home.

Slowly, in spurts and starts, the final product is taking shape. We could make a last push to the end this weekend, if the mood struck us.

If only a picture of our lives could come together like a puzzle with all its pieces, we’d feel ahead of things. 

I think some of my life’s pieces are permanently missing. Maybe the dog ate them, or they were vacuumed up and are now too mangled to have a hope of fitting correctly.

But the longer I go, the more the pieces seem to come together. I’ve had plenty of jam-ups, times when I insisted that things fit. But no, it is a childlike and immature thing to do, to force a piece to fit where it does not belong, whether we’re in a rush to finish, or whether we just want to feel like we’re making some sort of progress.

Best to be patient.

It’s also best to have some encouragement along the way. 

Sometimes another set of eyes can help keep you from forcing a decision. 

Another person is company for hard times. There are stretches when nothing seems to be fitting together, and it feels like the entire piece will remain unfinished.

It is then that another person can keep you from giving up.

And if you make it through those times when nothing is working, be assured, progress is right around the corner.

In the world of puzzles, as in life, it is common for several pieces to fall into place at once. 

And when they do, you can feel like you’ve done something, at least for a little while. Then you find another patch of red fur or pale splotches to start on.

Someday, maybe I can be a little old lady at an assisted living. My life’s mission will be to assemble as many puzzles as possible before my own life’s puzzle is complete.

I sometimes wish I knew how it’s all going to turn out, but I don’t have that privilege. I don’t know if I could stand it. There might be things I don’t need to see coming. There might also be surprises that would be spoiled.

Plus, it would make things too easy. 

Our life’s puzzles don’t have a picture on the box to help us along. 

Only God can see that.

And since He has the long view, He makes the best puzzle companion you could possibly have.