Kaleidoscope

Shards of colored glass, a battered cardboard tube, circle of transparent plastic, all so small and insignificant.

But in reality, that's all I am.

Me, the real me, holds the battered cardboard tube that is this present life. Inside it rattles the colored glass pieces that make up everyday. All those tiny, insignificant pieces and parts of my life.

I look through and see nothing but blurred and dim shapes in the darkness. He tells me to point it towards the light. For it's only by His light that I can see life properly.

I point the cardboard upwards and see it. A pattern. A beautiful mosaic made up of all the pieces of life, sparkling and brilliant.

But then He takes hold of the cardboard tube and shakes it gently. And I cry because my pattern is destroyed. But I look again, and see a new shape, a new beauty greater than the one before.

At times I forget to point the tube towards the light, and I lose sight of the beauty of the pattern.

Sometimes I pull back and pity myself. I wish I was something more than a collection of broken glass and worn out cardboard.

Sometimes I try to keep Him from shaking my life. I wildly clutch, attempting to save the pattern that I think is the most beautiful. Unwilling to wait and see what He creates.

I must be still to see the picture. I must keep myself pointed towards the light, letting it illuminate this great puzzle of life. I must allow Him to shake and move and jostle, knowing that He does all things well.

Because life's a kaleidoscope, and He's the Master artist.

Fine Print: Original idea by a dear friend, pictures not my own.