Coming Together

There is a child sitting on the living room carpet. Someone gave her a new toy, saying it must be taken good care of, to solve it’s puzzles every single day. She was mesmerized as she turned it over in her hands. Instantly, another toy was placed in her hands, this one appeared to be more complicated and the instructions were even more vague, “Do not let it sit for more than a day without understanding it more.” She raised an eyebrow as she ran her fingers over the structure of it, sitting the first toy on her knee. Even as she was looking over it, more toys with similar strange instructions were given to her. Every day she marveled at their strange nature, fingering every part of their surfaces, memorizing how they appeared. This went on for many days until one day she was looking at two of them, when she realized their shapes were similar on the edges. At this moment, she looked over all of them, finding similar connections. At this, she began piecing them together. Some were more difficult to squeeze in, often they had to be turned once they were set in place, or they would fall again. This process took many days and her eyebrows were constantly furrowing, toys were dropped to the ground with force in frustration, and much was moved around, again and again. Though, no matter what she did, they wouldn’t seem to come together. Her Father checked on her many times, encouraging her, but as time grew on she began ignoring Him. Nothing seemed to work, her hands were growing sweaty, her hair ruffled, she couldn’t even seem to get a grip on the toys any longer. The ones she’d had together began looking like they didn’t fit, so she pulled them apart in anger. Her Father stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Beloved, come, let me care for you.” She shrugged Him off and started pushing the pieces together again. Days passed and she would not come, her Father sent her friends in to speak with her, she wasn’t sending them away. They pleaded with her to go back to her Father, to let Him help her, and at last one day in tears, she agreed. Her face was sweaty and grimy, she felt ashamed to look at Him. “Let me wash you clean again.” And so she did, He cleansed her, clothed her, gave her real food and listened to her rant on about the puzzle. This continued until the moment she paused, “Daddy, will you help me?”

He smiled, “At last..” and went back into the room together. He showed her certain things about each piece and gave her a page of instructions. “Now, no one else can put this together but you. I could give the pieces to another and it would come out differently, but it would pain me greatly. Will you take care of it for me?” She nodded slowly as he continued, her eyes grew wide.  “Even these instructions will not tell you everything, but you will know, and what you do not know you will come to. Do you trust Me?” She grinned, “Yes Daddy.” “Then go, finish what you started.”

He watched, as did her friends, as she struggled with the pieces, but as they slipped apart and fell sometimes, she no longer got angry, but instead strained to understand them more. She learned that many of them were gifts from her friends, that her Father had given them to bring to her, and they knew special things about those pieces. As she listened to them, the secrets became clear. She worked at this for much longer, until one day, at last, the masterpiece was finished.

Her Father stepped forward that day and placed His hand on her shoulder. “Well done..” She smiled and embraced Him. “Thank you, Daddy.. I love You.” “And I have always loved you.”

~Tori Lynn


One thought on “Coming Together

  1. Alix Wallace says:

    That was really good 🙂

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