Hesitantly, I pull the lid off the box. Closing my fingers around the bottom, I slowly pick it up and turn it upside down. Thousands of pieces quickly fall onto the table. None of the pieces are alike. Not one is the same color, shape, or size. As I stand there staring at them I realize what an incredible task lies before me. This challenge is one that I have never faced before, nor will ever face again in my entire existence, because I get only one chance at this complex problem, this puzzle. The pieces are mine from which to choose. The picture I create will be my doing and no one else's. Yet, I am confused; edge pieces, corner pieces, inner pieces and no place to begin. I sit down in the isolated room of my mind, on the chair of my discretion, next to this vast horizon of life and look vacantly at the possibilities.
The room is a sanctuary, the chair is a pew, and the puzzle is my life. Unlike my mind I am not secluded, the sanctuary is filled with hundreds of people. And I sit there, withdrawn from the mass, examining myself, praying. I have come to a point in my life when I must make a decision that defines who I will be. Not an easy question. Not an easy answer. I am frightened because I know I do not get a second chance once I have committed myself. It is all or nothing in the business of ministry. So I pray earnestly, seeking guidance, parameters, and edge pieces to this problem.
For some reason I open my eyes and stare down at the front of the room. Amidst the hundreds of people present a man looks at me and stands. He moves to the pew where I am, sits down, and says words I will never forget. "I don't know what it is, but God wants me to tell you that He is going to use you. And I don't know if He wanted me to tell you as encouragement or simply as a confirmation, but that is His will." Suddenly the pieces begin moving on the table. I watch in wonder as the fragments fly together. The edges suddenly are outlined and my life begins to take shape. As this man prays for me, I stare at the table. My eyes are filled with tears because I realize that my puzzle has just been formed. It is, by no means, complete, but it is begun.
Sitting at the table once again I look at my puzzle. I see the pieces influenced by my family and friends. I see the shapes formed by my teachers and mentors. Yet it is all enclosed in the gold border set there by the willingness of one man to be led by God. I do not know his name. I can not remember his face. But I do know this: his words changed my puzzle.
All for the Same,
All for the Name,
Ryan
