I See the Piece but God See's the Puzzle

There I sit, right foot firmly on the brake peddle; left arm cranking circles as the window lowers slowly; right hand feeling frantically for that plastic card, you know the one- the one with the string of magical numbers of purchasing power and magnetic wonder- that gets shop-a-holics in trouble and shops-a-nevers like me rarely swipe for fear of losing track, losing margins, losing safety. 

And maybe I'd have a better chance of holding tightly to safety if the Mazda were in park. 

It was one of those moments when the storm clouds of the Florida afternoon were hovering heavy-low, rain drops swelling large with the humid air. It seemed silly but the clearance height on the drive through ATM probably made no difference because the sky was pressing so low, so strong, that its weight demanded, you may come this far and no further. 

I find the card and wiggle it gently out of the wallet. I think of how, in the last 10 weeks, I have been led--to and away--from two jobs. I think of how bills are consistent even when paychecks aren't. I think of how we worry worry worry when we place security in material storehouses and how many moments I've struggled and found myself guilty of just that. 

I think about how God must see me as a floundering child when I breath a little faster and hold a little tighter because my financial security seems fleeting. And it is. I think of how He pressed on my heart that first time I gave my written notice; My dear child, your work here is done. Go and walk, I have plans for a hope and a future. 

I think of how humbling-hard it is to walk where feet may fail and how much rock-solid-joy floods in knowing that my God will never fail. 

And for a while I walk and His Word keeps me strong with reminders of a heavenly security. 

"Do not lay up for yourself treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven...For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be." - Matthew 6:19-21 NKJV

"Therefore, do not worry saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?'...For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added to you." -Matthew 6:31-33

So with sometimes shaky steps I make my way through the summer semesters assignments and I thank God for the time to get my work done and I trust Him for provision.

Then one afternoon I get a call back, a new number, an opportunity. 

Two interviews gone well and a sense of peace that this could be the right direction, a link to the future. Maybe a calling I had never allowed my thoughts to entertain before, not even a toe dipped in the shallow end. I am so weak, so set, so scheduled; Oh how I struggle to break my planning personality of needing to know what comes next and accept that God knows, not me. 

It is He who has a plan for me, for hope, for a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

It is I who must walk by faith and not by sight. (2 Corinthians 5:7) 

It has been a trust-challenge; to walk with a blindfold knowing that God still sees. And so I walked.

I walked through training and I walked through classrooms and I walked through naming shapes and colors as if it were the most fascinating afternoon craft project that had ever been done with torn up pieces of tri-colored construction paper. And when you're three, it doesn't get much better than that.

I rocked babies to sleep and read books to children who knew the stories better than I know how to spell my own name but still got giddy-excited with each page turn as if each new picture, each new line of words spelled out an even better adventure. 

Maybe they're the ones that really have it right after all. Excited for what lies ahead. 

The one book, with the animals in the woods, now that was a four year old thriller. I remember the big brown bear that all the animals hid from, hid because it looked huge and scary and uncertain, and really that bear gave cuddly hugs and brought more joy than running away could have ever brought safety. 

Maybe that's how I look at life sometimes. Big and scary and uncertain, because unknown is scary. And I think of how those four-year-old children held their breath, eyes wide and grinning with excitement for the turn of a new page. 

Childlike curiosity for adventure. Refreshing. 

So I walked through teacher training and I think maybe it was actually the children who were teaching me; about life and adventure and wide-eyed grinning excitement for whatever dancing line of 5-word narration came on the next page. 

Humbling. 

I soak it in and sigh with relief. He is the Narrator of my story, and if 5 words is all I get, just enough direction for this moment, this next step, this day, this page, His gifts of just-enough-light for one sure footfall are more-than-enough-guidance for me. God is sufficient. 

And then it happened again. That heart-pressing and spirit-guiding that brought me low in all my pride before a God who knows the future and leads the blind by faith. My dear child, the mission I have for you is not here. 

Then it hits me hard. The reality that no matter how hard I work, how much I give, how long I strive, my work is in vain if it's not in His will. No amount of my hard work in the wrong direction will ever budge God's will for the right direction.  

For the second time in 10 weeks I give my notice and I pray pray pray for grace and understanding in this uncomfortable whirlwind of mistakes admitted. And I walk.

Which leads me to this moment of extreme multitasking. Where clouds hang heavy and lists string long with to-dos, and God teaches patience, preparing the rain. 

On my way from one assignment to tackle the list of homework running through my weekly agenda, I find myself juggling the chaos of a now routine visit to the ATM. In the midst of my circus act, my purse starts singing and buzzing with the vibrate of a ringing phone I still haven't figured out how to answer without hanging up about 2.7 seconds later. 

Touch screen technology. How you complicate and frustrate my longing for a simple life. 

The screen displays an unknown number; I think to myself, well what's one more unknown and I slide the bar and hold it to my ear with an unsure hello.

A greeting and then... a gift. 

"So I hear you are a math tutor."

And in our conversation, it's like the flood gates of heaven opened. Only this time I'm swept away in the waters of God-gifts and God's grace and not the pelting raindrops that spew storms of the world. 

On the very same day, in the very same hour I am racing-rushed to deliver yet another letter of resignation, I'm caught in the chaos by a gift of provision; A gift of God. 

Math tutor-a glimmer of hope that my steps are heading in the right direction of,
Math teacher-a possible future. 

Over the last year I've seen that when pieces fall into the right position, it's because God knows the bigger picture. He is the Puzzle Maker, but I must hold hands open wide to receive, with thanksgiving, each piece that is masterfully placed. 

The heavy storms that pounded that Florida afternoon left the ATM broken and my hands without material provision. As is always the case, my moment of reliance on a worldly storehouse of security had left me empty handed. With a whirlwind of grace, God rained gifts of heavenly opportunity from a storehouse not of this world, that gave provision far more than enough for me. 

"Do not lay up for yourself treasures on earth...For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be."