June 18

I like puzzles. I like how they're simple --you're just assembling a picture, after all-- and I like that I have to think while working, but not about anything earth-shattering. It's an engaging activity that doesn't require a lot of serious thought. I haven't been able to put one together for quite some time now --cough, cough, uh, piece-thieving kids-- so I'm enjoying assembling this 1,000-piece number with Abby's help.

As I worked this afternoon, I thought about how this partly assembled puzzle reminds me of my life. See, God knows what the whole picture looks like in its final, finished glory. I have an idea as to what it should look like, but I don't have all of the information. Sometimes there are pieces that go missing for long periods of time before they're found. Sometimes edges are bent. Sometimes the colors don't look quite right. Sometimes even when I'm convinced that a certain piece belongs in a certain spot, I'm wrong and I have to shift the pieces around to find the right place.

But beyond all of that, I'm a work in progress. And that's totally right and okay, because all of us --even the smartest, sharpest, brightest ones-- are works in progress. It's true that this puzzle will (at least I hope!) be finished at some point in the near future, while the process of constructing the final, finished 'me' will take longer than that. But the metaphor... it works for me.