Have you ever put together a 1500 piece puzzle? All by yourself?
Decadent, that’s what it is, to waste all those hours. My brain emptied itself completely as the puzzle took shape, all my usual words and thoughts pouring out, being replaced with a fixation on nuances of color. I’d pick up a piece (yes, puzzle-shaped, since you asked) and wonder: is this beige piece a sort of rosy-beige and belong in this top-right section, or is it more beigey-beige, and belong in this bottom-right section? I love thinking like this. I did not think about Christmas shopping, or pie recipes, or my next sermon, or what should be done about global warming.
Instead, I just compared shades of beige and the relative sizes of the bumps and thingies on little pieces of cardboard. Family members stopped by to help with a piece or two, and we talked a little as we searched together.
When the puzzle was done, we all admired the picture, which was the parables of Jesus. Right in the front is the prodigal son, of course, being clasped by the forgiving father. The puzzle pieces picturing the father’s fingers were the easiest to identify in the whole box, and the most thrilling to put into place.