• So, the site crashed yesterday and... took away my last post, so here it is again... sort of.

    Life is like a puzzle. The picture, unknown to us, is a portrait of ourselves. We spend our lives collecting these beautiful pieces from every little joyous moment. The first time you heard your mothers voice, the first friend you ever made, achieving your greatest dream, etc. These pieces are beautiful and, for some, are in abundance which can make up most of that puzzle. But, for many, there are these little smudged pieces from times that were not so happy. Your first heartbreak, family tragedy, untimely sicknesses, etc. These -- although not ideal and more than likely not favored -- still add to your portrait as a part of you. Each and every one of those pieces come together to create the picture of a beautiful human being who can stand before the world with a purpose, yet still feel completely incomplete.

    There you stand... nearly finished with one final piece left in your hand. You look at your puzzle and see exactly where that piece should fit... and you try your hardest to complete it, but... for some reason it doesn't seem to match. That, my friend, is because that piece does not belong to you. It belongs to someone else who may very well be on their last piece as well. Beyond any comprehension of logic in faith, you will one day find each other. And when you do, you trade... and you spend the rest of your lives explaining the pieces of your puzzles until you both know every inch of both by heart. Then, should god will it, you start your own puzzle. That, is the story of the love piece.

    I feel like it was better when I first wrote it, but I didn't remember exactly how I worded it, so this is sort of like a poor second edition, but... it's alright I guess. Thank you for reading. If you have an analogy of your own, I would love to hear it.


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