What do we do with all these pieces?

Am feeling disconnected in this changing season. There are a lot of random pieces. I’m not sure how, even if, they fit.

A friend’s unexpected question triggers an unexpected answer.
(Do I dare trust that answer?)

An opportunity seems so small, and so different, from my dreams.
(A small beginning that I should embrace, rather than despise?)

Words of encouragement that seem light years removed from day to day reality.
(Does my life really hold this amount of potential?)

Challenging an ancient fear that has become familiar and comforting.
(Why face this now? It’ll only stir up a battle that’s laid dormant  for years.)

Random pieces. And I’ll bet you’re thinking of some of your own right now, even as you read mine. So, how do we respond when our days seem filled with miscellaneous events which may, or may not, eventually make sense in the “big picture”?

These are the days that must be framed with the promises of the One who holds order in the midst of what we’re tempted to view as chaos:

• The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
  but will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)
• ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the Lord Almighty.
  (Zechariah 4: 6)
• “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29: 11)
• Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. (Psalms 46:10)

(from the archives of the un-rhyming, un-metered, poet)

Father,

You say I’m not insignificant
my heart cries at the implication
yearning for Your arms, Your embrace
Longing to know and to see as You do,
Not wanting to settle for false answers
with their brief illusions of security

A true purpose lies ahead
even as chapters close
My tears do not question Your goodness or work
but merely acknowledge that I am weak
often tired, and don’t see
what, and how, You do

But Father, I do trust You