“Pieces” by Red

I'm here again
A thousand miles away from you
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
Thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way

Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole

I've come undone
But you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your eye

Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole!

I tried so hard! So hard!
I tried so hard!

Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole
So you can make me whole

This is a song I’ve come to love and is my inspiration for this post. It’s called “Pieces” by a Christian band called Red. The lyrics strike a deep chord in me (no pun intended) every time I listen to it. Couple that with the fact that the puzzle piece is the universal and most well-known symbol for autism, and you have a song that is deeply meaningful in both an objective and spiritual sense. I organized my thoughts with headings tied to the lyrics. I’ve also embedded the song at the end of this post for you.

I won’t pretend that I know precisely what was going through the minds of the artists as they wrote this song. People like to add their subjective interpretation to it based on what they have experienced in life. I’ve read posts, for example, about people liking this song because of a romantic relationship they’ve lost or found. Or, it reminds them of marriage or overcoming an addiction. 

To me, it’s one of the most profound messages of hope I’ve ever heard in a song. It’s the present struggle of the pilgrim’s progress. It’s the anticipation of a bright and glorious future. It’s a message about the lost being found.

I Come To You In Pieces, So You Can Make Me Whole

Jack loves puzzles. He’s really good at them! He’s keenly aware of the next piece he needs and can identify it in the pile often quicker than I can. It’s fun to watch him do his thing.

Do you ever have the experience of getting toward the end of a puzzle and wonder if there are enough pieces to complete it? There’s nothing more frustrating than one missing piece (or several at my house). It essentially destroys the entire puzzle-building experience. We hope for its completion. But sure enough, someone (not me) misplaces a piece, chews on it, throws it away, or brushes it under the rug. It doesn’t matter if it’s a middle piece or an edge piece…one missing piece makes the puzzle essentially worthless. By my standards, every puzzle we own is worthless and I should probably start replacing them.

Interestingly, one of my first marriage tests was working on an extremely complex puzzle with Katie. It was a 1000-piece puzzle of Mickey Mouse. But it wasn’t just a standard image, but rather, every piece of the puzzle displayed a scene from a Disney movie (mainly the really good ones from the 90s and earlier), and when pieced together, created one large image of Mickey Mouse (pictured above). It was a tedious task that took many hours, but we looked forward to its completion! 

I recall feeling very nervous when we got to the last few pieces. I was hoping that none of the pieces were lost. Getting to the end and seeing a piece missing probably would have infuriated me…which in turn, would have led to a different marriage test. 

“Okay, two more blank spaces left and….Yeeeeeesss two more pieces left to fill the gaps! Got em!”

PHEEEWW! 

It was done and all pieces were accounted for. Feeling proud of the completion of our marriage-building endeavor, we went out and bought a frame for it and displayed it on our wall for several years. 

That experience is a great reminder for me about the immense purpose our lives have. The individual scenes, pictures, and experiences of our lives, when pieced together, create a larger and more perfect picture. The whole is greater than the sum of its pieces.

But one missing piece spoils the larger picture. It’s unsatisfying. Every piece must fit and every piece must be accounted for, or else, what’s the point? Maybe that’s why we, along with all of creation, groan in anticipation of total redemption? (Romans 8:22-23). We aren’t perfectly satisfied until we are made whole. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find peace and rest in the present while God works on the bigger picture. 

Isaiah 26:3 is something I need to be praying and meditating on: You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

Rather than keeping my mind fixated on trusting God, I become frustrated and often feel like one of those incomplete puzzles. Those missing pieces. Trying to make sense of life and its circumstances on my own. I easily forget who is doing the work.

How does autism fit? How do our struggles fit? We have a propensity to continue searching for that one thing that will make sense of it all rather than trusting in the One who already knows. We might even become discontent, unhappy, or restless.

Sometimes we go to great lengths to find what we believe is that missing piece that will make us whole, yet, it doesn’t quite fit. 

“Ah, yes, I have finally figured it out…this is what I needed!” 

But, it’s an edge piece trying to fit into a middle piece, or, it belongs to another puzzle altogether. It doesn’t quite satisfy.

I inevitably conclude that I know less than I did before and have, again, tried to drink from a dry well. As the lyrics say, “I tried so hard. Thought I could do this on my own.”

The attempt to put everything in our lives together by our own strength is frivolous and leaves us unsatisfied. Yet we set out on that journey over and over again. I think there is a word out there for doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

But the greatest message of hope is that God fully knows and has a perfect plan and purpose for all the pieces of our life, even the ones that make no sense to us right now. He’s the only one that can accomplish such a feat. He calls. We come to Him in pieces. He makes us whole. The search can finally end. 

Why do you spend money for what is not bread, And your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, And let your soul delight itself in abundance (Isaiah 55:2)

Then I’ll See Your Face, I Know I’m Finally Yours

We will never see the puzzle complete and know its fullness on this side of eternity. But there will be a day when we see God and everything will fall into place. We will say, “Ah, yes! I now see how the pieces of my life fit perfectly.” It will finally make sense. “You make sense of who I am, like puzzle pieces in your eye.” We will finally know, as we are now known. 

Growing up, I always loved hearing about what God’s Word had to say about Heaven. Such a wonderful hope. Streets like gold. Pearly gates. Everything perfect and beautiful as it was intended. Seeing loved ones who have passed on before us. No sin. No suffering. Exploring galaxies like Star Wars. Being able to (hopefully) fly or walk through walls. No depressing news.

It’s all worth hoping for and getting excited over. But, I eventually had to assess my heart honestly and ask… “Am I more excited about the place I am going or more excited to see the person who carried me there”? It’s worth pondering. 

Heaven without Christ wouldn’t really be heaven at all. 

Charles Spurgeon puts it this way in his commentary on 1 Corinthians 13:12.

There have been many suggestions of what we shall do in heaven, and what we shall enjoy, but they all seem to me to be wide of the mark compared with this one, that we shall be with Jesus, be like him, and shall behold his glory. Oh, to see the feet that were nailed, and to touch the hand that was pierced, and to look upon the head that wore the thorns, and to bow before him who is ineffable love, unspeakable condescension, infinite tenderness! Oh, to bow before him, and to kiss that blessed face! Jesus, what better do we want than to see thee by shine own light to see thee, and speak with thee, as when a man speaketh with his friend?

It is pleasant to talk about this, but what will it be there when the pearl gates open? The streets of gold will have small attraction to us, and the harps of angels will but slightly enchant us, compared with the King in the midst of the throne. He it is who shall rivet our gaze, absorb our thoughts, enchain our affection, and move all our sacred passions to their highest pitch of celestial ardor. We shall see Jesus.

Spurgeon, Charle Haddon. “Commentary on 1 Corinthians 13:12”. “Spurgeon’s Verse Expositions of the Bible”. https://www.studylight.org/commentaries/spe/1-corinthians-13.html. 2011.

I Find Everything I Though I’d Lost Before

As an autism parent, I can’t think of a more profound and glorious statement than this. 

Suffering loss is inevitable but difficult to reconcile. I’ve suffered loss, or at least, perceived loss. A loss of experiences hoped for. A loss of flexibility. A loss of sanity (at times). A loss of social engagement, etc.

I don’t understand the why of it all, but I’ve been graced to catch glimpses of God’s goodness through it. 

He makes sense of who we are like puzzle pieces in His eye. On that hopeful day, when we see His face, we will know more fully as He knows us fully now. We will finally see as He sees. 

I believe wholeheartedly that when we see the face of God, we will find everything we thought we’d lost in this life. Everything that felt broken and missing will be found because He is Everything. No more questions. No more missing or lost pieces. We will be whole. And We will be perfectly satisfied.

My hope and prayer for all of you who have lost so much along the way, who feel like a broken mess, and who feel like a thousand miles away from Him, would lean into a perfect Savior to find peace and joy. Lay the mess at His feet and let Him do the work. Cast your burden on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous to be moved (Psalm 55:22).

To those of you impacted by autism or related disability, I believe there is a veiled beauty and a veiled glory awaiting you. Our young children or adult children that we are raising or have raised are an essential piece to the all-satisfying and holistic work of God in our lives. When we see Him face to face, we will see that and know it to the fullest extent. 

When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory (Colossians 3:4).

I can’t imagine anything better.