Defining the Edges

Do you have any family activity traditions over Christmas? Ours puts more emphasis on the "tea" than the "active", but for many years we've loosely observed the tradition of working on puzzles over the season, a practice inherited from both my wife's and my families. We're currently in the midst of a 16-puzzle challenge, but in spite of a strong start, success is looking doubtful. Time is running out.

Like most puzzlers, I'm sure, we start by assembling the edges. A few evenings ago, as I matched up a tiger's stripes, the slowly emerging picture struck me as a metaphor for this thing we call midlife. Even though much of the image has yet to come together, and individual pieces make little sense on their own, the mystery of what we will see is being revealed because the edges are defined.

Here's what I mean: as a young person, you had lots of opportunity, and for all your inspired confidence, you really had no idea where life would take you. The edges were not in place. Anything - theoretically - was possible.

But at this point in life, the edges are set. Your personality, your preferences and abilities, are all essentially locked in place. I've come to accept that I'm not going to be a rock star, famous movie producer, or the next Bill Hybels. My puzzle edges have all been placed, the boundaries established.

The upside to this potentially depressing state, is that midlife affords us the needed clarity to focus on what we do possess. Any puzzler knows "the zone" - getting on a roll where the shape, color and texture of each piece almost seems to place itself. In the same way, knowing what we can't do, or don't do well, is as helpful as being certain about what we can do. Truthfully, most of what we've done in life can now be done better and faster by someone younger, quicker, smarter.

So instead, with edges defined, the pieces being assembled in what seems to be an accelerating pace, we should have the freedom to clarify and pursue our unique image. The  time for guessing "I wonder what it is?" has passed. The picture is emerging.

Oh, but the best is yet to be. For I am not the puzzler, I'm the puzzle. The One bent over my jumbled pieces is my Maker. Just this morning I read in Philippians, that "God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns" (Phil 1:6).

That's a promise I cling to. The Christmas break is nearly over, and our puzzles, finished or not, will go back in the boxes for next year. But my Maker has a plan, and because each piece makes sense, he will finish the challenge, in his good time.