“Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:8-10)
I like jigsaw puzzles. In the last ten years or so, I’ve started a tradition of doing a Christmas puzzle. I look for a new puzzle, usually on Amazon or at a summer rummage sale, that features a Christmas scene of some kind. Right after Thanksgiving, I start putting the border outline out and slowly recreating the scene.
This past Christmas, I found a 2,000-piece puzzle that was going to challenge my color-blindness limitations. There were a number of shades and tones that were difficult for me to figure out, but I gave it a go. Life busyness got in the way and the puzzle took shape at a turtle’s pace.
Christmas came and it wasn’t even close to being done. January, February, a trickle was flowing from the box onto the tapestry. March, April…surely it would be completed by Easter! I mean, the life journey had gone from the birth of Jesus to his death and resurrection…but it still wasn’t finished.
My wife Carol was beginning to wonder if I was waiting until next Christmas. Our dining room table continued to be partially “Christmas-tized.” Finally…finally, in the first week of June…it was done!
Wait a minute! All the pieces had found their rightful fit, but, what’s this…there is a missing piece…but there aren’t any other pieces! I had form-fitted 1,999 pieces. 1,999 had found their purpose for existence, but one piece…one piece had become non-resident.
I searched the floor. I went to where I was eye-level with the surface of the puzzle, hoping that my color-blindness was hiding the final solution. I searched under the living room furniture, under the curtains, and in the heating vents on the wooden dining room floor. There is something self-defeating about working a 2,000 piece puzzle that is only 99.95% complete.
Carol came up with another suggestion. Just by chance, maybe the robotic vacuum we have sucked it up. I highly doubted it, but let’s check. We took the bag that it discards its debris into after it gets back to its docking station. I thought back to the vacuum cleaners my parents had that gave you a workout, moving them, carrying them, unplugging and plugging, and the limited amount of sucking power they had.
But…let’s look. We took the bag outside (Smart idea…but not mine!) and held it over the garbage can, where we slowly emptied the massive amounts of hair, dust, more hair, crumbs, and then a quarter, more hair, and a penny. The bag was almost empty, but we were twenty-six cents ahead.
And then just as I was about to give up sifting through the dust and hair, there it was! Piece number 2,000, hiding underneath some cracker crumbs and something else that no longer resembled am item that once had purpose.
Piece #2,000! Just like the lost coin of Jesus parable, the search and more searching…and Carol’s perseverance, produced what had been missing. It’s amazing how one puzzle piece, in essence 0.05% of the picture, produced satisfaction and a change in my demeanor.
How much more do the angelic hosts sing praises over one lost person who finds the Way?
Words from WW Blog 