So, I’ve made it to that milestone of 40 years old. I’d like to say, now surely, I am an official no-doubt-about-it grown up. And possibly I’m a tad closer to putting together the puzzle pieces that have made up who I am and this life I have gotten to live up to this point.

As I’ve let this new decade of my life begin to unfold over the past few months, however, it seems rather like I’ve walked through a new door, walked up to another table, and opened and dumped another puzzle on the table, pieces scattered everywhere, waiting for me to decide what I’m going to do with them.

One interesting fact about me, that I’m realizing isn’t necessarily shared by many of the other people in my life (but there are a few!), is that I like to put my jigsaw puzzles together more than once. (Similarly, I actually enjoy re-reading books and re-watching movies, and typically enjoy the second time more than the first, and the third time the most. Come to think of it, this reminds me of how I experienced having babies, and how I experience new activities and vacations…Can any of you relate?)

What has always been a bit stressful as a result is the “possibility” of missing pieces… They inevitably fall on the floor, or spill out of the box when improperly stored or retrieved…  This has been one of those nagging fears or anticipated feelings of dread that kinda linger and taint my love for re-doing puzzles, especially since my third child came into the picture. You see, this little guy likes stealing and hiding a piece or two to magically ‘”find” them for me when I get to the end of my puzzle pieces. While he almost always does successfully become the hero of my day (which I believe is one of his things with me, and why I refrained from disciplining this behavior out of him), there’s that chance that he might forget where he hid one of the pieces. And also, if I finish a puzzle when he’s not around, I no longer know if I should begin my frantic search around the house or wait for him to wake up or come home before finding out whether or not a piece is actually missing.

I wonder now if this has all been a special set-up, a tailor-made training method, God has had all along to get me to finally understand and acknowledge, and even accept, the puzzle of my life that my life has always seemed and felt like to me.

Am I okay that there might be a missing piece or two? Is there joy and fun and intrigue enough in the activity of life itself that the end result doesn’t need to be picture-perfect-all-the-pieces-are-there-and-in-their-proper-places in order for me to be good, and to have had a good time and enjoyed myself? Can I be at peace with a missing piece?

Believe it or not, finally at forty, I actually am.

My proof was in July as I approached my birthday, and completed one of my favorite birthday puzzles from the year before only to find alas! that one piece was missing, lost, gone forever…and yet, I was totally, completely…at peace! I was okay, and it was nothing short of a miracle to me, because I am so well aquainted with that feeling of “not okay” from much previous experience.  Just to double check myself, I proceed to put together another puzzle which I already knew was missing a couple pieces, and yes, it was the same.

Something had shifted. Something like the perspective I’ve been working for several years on in my mind finally reaching my heart. And as a result, missing pieces not only in my puzzles — but also in my life — are no longer so ominous and scary, no longer so impossible to face, no longer so difficult to see and yet continue moving along.

Psalm 139 reminds me that God knows me, that He not only thought up the details of me and considered it a good idea to go through all the trouble it would take to “knit me together” and then to “keep me together” in light of all He had thought up, He also knows and goes with me wherever I go, He knows what I am saying and also what I’m thinking but not saying, or what I’m thinking but not even self-aware quite yet of what it is I’m really thinking. I was not a mistake, I was not unplanned; and I am not alone and I have never been abandoned. There may be many things that are not exactly as I would have made them to be, but perhaps there truly is wisdom in my Creator that’s beyond my understanding, and to worry about figuring out  all those details in light of eternity is a burden He was wise to keep away from my shoulders.  There are higher purposes to life–and to this life and how it fits in that big picture–than I may ever fully grasp, and that perhaps one day in Heaven I’ll finally understand when I can see the bigger/fuller perspective that simply can’t be seen from down here.

This fall, I have begun a new journey, that in many ways is a return to an old journey, by returning to school.

Some days it has felt like, what then did I do with my 20s and 30s? Was it all a detour, albeit an invaluable one? If a “detour,” is the implication that I’m far, far behind in the path that I maybe was “supposed” to take long ago? And are the reasons behind the detour (i.e. wanting to deal with many, many of my issues first and foremost, and not having the ability to shut those parts of myself off long enough so as not to interfere with going after goals) then things to regret and lament? Also, now that I’m 40, and attempting to balance school while caring for three very awesome but also very active children, will I still have the stamina and brain power and focus that I need to be able to do school, or finish school? And what about after school? There are so many unknowns, so many more potential pieces to discover as possibly misplaced or lost…

And yet, I know I can leave regrets and lament behind, because I know Whom I’ve been trusting and depending upon, Whom I’ve been pursuing relentlessly and following by faith.  And brokenness and all, I know more now than ever that I would not trade nor change my journey, because it has been mine, and it has lead me to become who I am today, and it is and will continue to be the foundation for however more I am to grow and wherever else I am to go from here.  This is how it all has been ultimately, and this is therefore how I can move forward expectantly and confidently into all the unknowns of the future yet to come.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love and unashamedly prefer “complete” puzzles, especially of the pretty picture kinds that make me sigh happily and contentedly at when that last piece is in place.  (And I am so thankful for all my good friends who have helped re-stock my collection for my forties!)

But I firmly believe that we are inspired to grow and empowered for excellence most, not when we are tyrannized by a fear of failure and imperfection, but when we are confident that we are and will be enough, and we can give ourselves permission to thoroughly appreciate and enjoy the journey no matter what mishaps and bumps we encounter along the way.