Lyin’ on the sidewalk,
One picture puzzle piece
Soakin’ in the rain.
It might be a button of blue
On the coat of the woman
Who lived in a shoe.
It might be a magical bean,
Or a fold in the red
It might be the one little bite
Of the apple her stepmother
Gave to Snow White
.It might be the veil of a bride
Or a bottle with some evil genie inside.
It might be a small tuft of hair
On the big bouncy belly
Of Bobo the Bear.
It might be a bit of the cloak
Of the Witch of the West
As she melted to smoke.
It might be a shadowy trace
Of a tear that runs down an angel’s face.
Nothing has more possibilities
Than one old wet picture puzzle piece.
I have always been drawn to puzzles. From wintry Christmas vacations in my childhood (when we were still allowed to call in Christmas vacation) to a recent sermon series, I have found myself somehow in sync with the randomness of a puzzle. Liz and I have talked often about our piece of the puzzle and where we fit…and how we would like to know the final picture, but just don’t, at least not yet.
I carry a piece of a puzzle in my purse. It’s dark blue and has a streak of pink and yellow lightning across it; it was part of a devotion about how “nothing has more possibilities than one picture puzzle piece” from the Shel Silverstein poem above. It’s a nice reminder sometimes that my life, from beginning to end, is really nothing more than just one little puzzle piece. I am so grateful for that, and feel so blessed to even be part of the story, muchless have my own piece that only I can have!
The sun has been shining and I feel a little better about life this week. There is something inside me that is still deeply unsettled, but I am getting to a point where I am either content with the disturbance or pretending it’s not there. I haven’t decided which, yet.