I don’t know about you, but I’m still learning. I’m still finding new pieces of myself that must have formed over the years like sea glass smooth from weather and time. A fragment just under the surface that I must have passed several times, but only caught my eye when the sand shifted and the sunlight shone on it just right revealing a shiny, beautiful thing. Trying to pinpoint these reconstructions is useless, but recognizing them can be very satisfying.
I remember being told as a child that I’m growing and maturing, that I’m clay being molded into something wonderful! I was under the impression that, as children, we learn everything we need to know to become successful and fully molded adults who are prepared for all things and make very few mistakes. That there was some magical mystery that takes place somewhere between adolescence and full-fledged adulthood that transforms us into fully functional, capable adults without question. I was introduced as a child to a song that I still recall on occasion called “Kids’ Under Construction,” by Bill Gaither and Gary Paxton. The refrain is as follows:
Kids under construction -
Maybe the paint is still wet.
Kids under construction -
The Lord may not be finished yet.
Unfinished
While the lyrics to “Kids Under Construction” are true; we are learning and growing as children and are being formed into qualified adults, I don’t believe we are ever quite “finished.” I don’t believe there is a point in our lives where a timer dings and someone yells out “you’re done!” I remember thinking that, when I grew up, I would stop making mistakes. I would somehow just know how to function at maximum capacity which would leave no room for error (insert rotfl emoji here).
Well, I grew up and, quite frankly, adulting sucks!! It’s not at all what I was promised as a child. It’s hard and sometimes harder than that. I’m not at all equipped for all the “surprises” life hurls at me. Sometimes, I feel like I’m back at the front door of Bowser’s Castle going up against King Koopa. I’m low on lives and have no Fire Flower, Super Star, or 1-Up to save me.
I’ve learned that I may run out of time, get shrunken, or have to start all over and It’s okay. It’s okay because I’m still being molded and formed into who God wants me to be. I have layers; a story that tells of courage and strength and grit. My paint is still wet because I may need revisions along the way and each day, month and year I find new pieces along my journey. With each mistake, I learn a lesson and each lesson serves my future. I’m seeing that I’m several puzzle pieces away to form a completed picture. A picture that may now be out of focus, but will ultimately tell a story of his grace and love.
Construct – “to build something or put together different parts to form something whole.”
-Cambridge English Dictionary
