Complete in Him

     Do you remember doing art on Friday when you went to school? Maybe you loved it, the paints and the construction paper shapes. Maybe you dreaded it because things never turned out how you imagined. I loved doing projects and I still do. I know it's been a lot of years, but come along! Let's you and I sit down together and work on a project. 
    We've got plenty of paints and sequins, glitter and glue. There are brushes and pipe cleaners, foam shapes and beads, scissors and rulers. I paint a blue background and add a few purple clouds, some rugged mountains. You decide to crown them with white snow and glitter. We're thrilled with the result, but surely we're not done so soon? 
    Our enthusiasm is boundless. You want to use the hot glue gun. I, for some characteristically unpredictable reason have fallen in love with a fuzzy yellow pipe cleaner. Together we come up with the bright idea of adding a sun.
    Before we know what's happened, we've gotten carried away. There was plenty of room in the valley of our picture, so we've decided to use pom-poms to create a bear (also we can use the hot glue gun some more that way!). We ran out of brown pom-poms and were forced to use an orange one for his left leg. A sequin caterpillar has somehow squiggled its way up the mountain, managing to obscure half of the glittery snowcapped peaks. Our lovely blue sky and purple clouds have been blotted out by an industrious tree that unfortunately resembles partly decayed lettuce.
     We sit back sadly to gaze at our once treasured piece of art. "We should have just left it," you say. What can I do, but nod in agreement?
    And that is so often how life goes. I imagine, and perhaps you do, too, that I need something to complete me — the missing piece, the perfect finish, the cherry on top. We each have our ideas what that missing piece is: a talent that gets recognition, dressing in the most recent fashion, being known for my hospitality, learning to always have a fun and witty comment on the ready, a certain group of friends that will make my lonely life bearable, a more lucrative career, a secure future, a special person to love, a child to care for.
    Sometimes we lie awake at night with tears running down our cheeks and cry to God, "What is wrong with me? Will I always be left here with this ache that I cannot fill? Will I never be whole?"
    It's so easy to reach out a hand and grasp the paints or the glitter. "If I add a little more," we think, "maybe then I will feel complete."
    God watches us, patiently shaking His head. He knows how He has designed us, and He has a plan ready if we will only lay down our own ideas. There may be pain. There may be sorrow. There may be tears. And it's OK to grieve. It is healing to weep tears. But take courage! He has promised that Ye are complete in him (Colossians 2:10a). 
    Resist the urge to somehow add to what you are. That empty spot can be filled, but only by our submission to our Heavenly Father and His great plan for us. One day you will look back at your life and marvel how the place you thought was empty has been filled by His love, and you will stand in awe when you realize the miracle He has wrought to make you, indeed, complete in Him.