“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10
I’m not very good at being present in the current moment. My mind tends to wander to my to-do list, future plans or anything my overthinking brain wants to ruminate in.
As a mom to two little girls I find myself resisting my natural instincts, longing to slow down, to be present. I love watching and being with them, whether dancing, playing at the park, doing puzzles, or snuggling up in my bed early in the morning. I wish that I could bottle the feeling of pausing, of being fully present in every moment of my day.
Leading up to moving has left me little time to slow down, and now I find myself somewhat settled into our new home. Attempting to pause and be present. The lazy days of summer lie ahead and I’m eager to fill them with activities and playdates and doing things to make our home feel complete. As I stare at our bare walls and shelves to be filled my mind wanders to the potential, to the things I could do to our home. It feels both overwhelming and exciting at the same time. And yet I also find myself looking back at where we came from, remembering the home we built together and longing for a different future. I know that I cannot change the past, I can only find hope in the present and in the promises God has to give me a hope and a future.
So here we are, looking at the vastness of our walls to be filled, to our potential, to our future—and to our present. The planner in me wants to do it all at once, to do all the things, to finish our home now. There’s so much I want to do, so much I see, and I’m not sure where to start.
So then I pause. Breathe. Slow down. The girls and I spent the morning doing a puzzle today, each of us taking a section, helping each other out, fitting the pieces together. We each had to start with one puzzle piece, finding the others that fit into place, then we connected them all where we found they came together.
I feel a bit like that puzzle. I know there is a vastness that lies ahead, a story that I’m writing, and I’m trying to write it all down now. I’m trying to make sense of it all, putting everything into its place, finding a way to control what I cannot see. I’m reminded that I cannot do it all at once. I cannot fill every bare spot on my walls, get everything I ever wanted for my home, and make everything feel complete.
Because my life is not complete.
My life is the puzzle. My pieces are fitting slowly together, intricately telling a story that I’m not going to see until the very end. Only God knows the plans, the hope and the future he has promised me. All I can do is be present, to find the pieces that fit the parts of the story that I am writing right now. I cannot change the present, the past or the ending to my story. All I can do is embrace it and find one piece at a time. I must connect the parts as they come together, coming alongside those who are walking with me in this journey. They are a part of my story, my puzzle, and they see my potential and encourage me along the path. They help me to see that I cannot complete it all at once but remind me to pause, to be fully present, to let God use me in this story that I am writing.
We all have a story we are writing, and it is up to us whether we embrace it, live in it, and are fully present to what God has for us. We must trust the process, take the pieces he has given us, and put them together to make something beautiful.
Because our puzzle, our story, our lives we are living are a masterpiece.

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay