There I am, a puzzle.
Not because I am hard to figure out
but because I am elaborate.
Each piece will fit only in its intended spot;
Intricately and affectionately shaped,
and painted by Your own hand.
I am clumsy though.
I tend to lose these pieces of myself,
unique and priceless,
and then I am afraid.
I am afraid because I don’t want You to see
how I’ve marred your prize.
So sometimes I try to create my own replacement piece,
but always with ragged edges and unsightly smudges.
Or sometimes I steal someone else’s piece
and try to warp it to look like my own.
I have even looked in the lost and found
hoping to find a piece
that might fill the glaring and damning empty spot
that I’ve put in something you’ve worked so hard on.
It’s to no avail though, You know your work
much too intimately
to be fooled by any stop-gap;
by anything besides what you designed to fit
in that spot, near the top left corner, 12 pieces down
and 7 pieces to the right.
You don’t get mad though.
You don’t fret and stress and look around on the ground
and worry if the dog might have chewed the piece.
You don’t condemn the puzzle
and label it as imperfect, blemished,
throwing it angrily into the box and labeling it as defective.
That’s what I would have done.
Instead you smile patiently, and chuckle at my poor attempts
to fix something I had no hand in making.
Instead you gather your tools
and examine the error,
my error,
with Your warm and tempered hands.
Instead You craft another tiny masterpiece,
a perfect fit,
made with no less love and attention to detail
than the original.
Or the first replacement.
Or the second replacement.
You carefully create another piece for me
to make me whole again
as only my Maker would know how.
Not because I am hard to figure out
but because I am elaborate.
Each piece will fit only in its intended spot;
Intricately and affectionately shaped,
and painted by Your own hand.
I am clumsy though.
I tend to lose these pieces of myself,
unique and priceless,
and then I am afraid.
I am afraid because I don’t want You to see
how I’ve marred your prize.
So sometimes I try to create my own replacement piece,
but always with ragged edges and unsightly smudges.
Or sometimes I steal someone else’s piece
and try to warp it to look like my own.
I have even looked in the lost and found
hoping to find a piece
that might fill the glaring and damning empty spot
that I’ve put in something you’ve worked so hard on.
It’s to no avail though, You know your work
much too intimately
to be fooled by any stop-gap;
by anything besides what you designed to fit
in that spot, near the top left corner, 12 pieces down
and 7 pieces to the right.
You don’t get mad though.
You don’t fret and stress and look around on the ground
and worry if the dog might have chewed the piece.
You don’t condemn the puzzle
and label it as imperfect, blemished,
throwing it angrily into the box and labeling it as defective.
That’s what I would have done.
Instead you smile patiently, and chuckle at my poor attempts
to fix something I had no hand in making.
Instead you gather your tools
and examine the error,
my error,
with Your warm and tempered hands.
Instead You craft another tiny masterpiece,
a perfect fit,
made with no less love and attention to detail
than the original.
Or the first replacement.
Or the second replacement.
You carefully create another piece for me
to make me whole again
as only my Maker would know how.
