Life seems to be a puzzle,
A jumble of a thousand pieces,
Impossible to assemble.
But if you build a frame
(And for me it’s God’s Word,
The Church, family, and friends),
It can be done.
Once the frame is in place,
You can begin to add more pieces,
Some by color, some by shape,
Some seemingly by accident.
I never thought a puzzle
Could mean so much.
(And, you can work on it
With other people.)
A reflection on two Bible passages.
“He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle. He will bring justice to all who have been wronged.” (Isaiah 42:3, New Living Translation).
I take this to mean that God has compassion on those who are weak, struggling with sin, or oppressed.
“This word came to Jeremiah from the LORD:
Rise up, be off to the potter’s house;
there I will give you my message.
I went down to the potter’s house and there he was,
working at the wheel.
Whenever the object of clay which he was making
turned out badly in his hand,
he tried again,
making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased.
Then the word of the LORD came to me:
Can I not do to you, house of Israel,
as this potter has done? says the LORD.
Indeed, like clay in the hand of the potter,
so are you in my hand, house of Israel.”
(Jeremiah 18:1-6, NAB revised edition)
Today I heard a new interpretation of “Whenever the object of clay which he was making turned out badly in his hand, he tried again, making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased.” What I heard today was: God never gives up on us. He starts over, remaking what did not work out, or where we failed in some way. He fashions something new. I had previously looked at it as God giving up. But He does not throw the clay out, he refashions it.
Both of these passages give me so much hope and thanksgiving for God’s mercy. Do not be discouraged by your failings. Only ask God to make something new of you. Let Him act in you.
Hold on; you’ve got to hold on.
Tough times come and go,
But beauty continues everywhere —
Lord, teach us to be aware.
You’re not alone; God is by your side.
He shares your pain; He shares your joy.
The universe sings of His love —
Hold on to the One from above.
Every pain is worth the joy.
Every heartache will be healed.
We don’t know all the reasons —
Still — hold on through the seasons!
One day we’ll see it’s all worth it.
All we went through becomes perfect.
A joy is waiting on the other side,
But you’ve got to hold on for the ride.
Pretty soon I (hope to?/) might have…rabbits in my garden pot.
Today, I happened to look out on the patio deck through the sliding glass doors, and saw a rabbit in one of my large garden pots, about an 18-inch diameter one, and perhaps just as tall. It was furiously digging in the dirt, making a medium-size depression. It came and went a few times, flicking dirt out over the rim of the pot. I could not understand what it was doing, and thought it might be digging for roots.
So I asked about the rabbit’s behavior on a gardening forum, and I have been learning so much!
Most likely, the rabbit is a female making a nest for little rabbits to come! Those of you, who unlike me, grew up in a less urban environment, are saying, “Duh!” But anyway, there’s no shelter over this garden pot. Even so, the “experts” are telling me that the mother rabbit will line the depression with her own fur and/or grass clippings soon before the bunnies are about to arrive.
Just about nothing is more entertaining to me than observing animals in action. I hope to keep this post updated as things progress. I’m not sure, though, how to get the best photos without disturbing the mother or babies. At the very least, I’ll try to keep readers posted, in words, about the outcome.
Update 6/1/2026: Well, no baby rabbits so far, and may never be. People around here agree, though, that the rabbit population is booming, more than most years.
Rabbit in pot, and digging:
“How is your weather?”
We often say.
What if we meant,
“How is your day?”
What if we meant,
“How do you feel?
Tell me your story;
Tell me what’s real.”
“Tell me the longing
Deep in your heart,
Your joys and your sorrows —
That would be a good start.”
Longing for sunshine
On a dark, cloudy day?
Longing for peace –
Putting turmoil at bay?
Deep in our hearts,
Only God can fulfill
Our need for His love —
Let Him make your heart still.
In a recent Sunday homily, the priest stated, “There is nothing you can do to make God love you less.” Perhaps superfluously, I might restate what he said like this: “There is nothing [bad] you can do to make God love you less, [and there’s nothing good you can do to make Him love you more.]
The priest went on to say something like, “It is we who turn from God, not He from us. We’re afraid to come to Him after we’ve sinned, but He’s waiting for us with open arms. He wants us back.”
What is our response to such a love? It might be fear, grateful acceptance, or something else. Fear, because that kind of love might demand something of us that we’re not willing to give — perhaps letting go of our anger, unforgiveness, blaming others, bad habits, etc. Or, in realizing the immensity of that kind of love that no human can give us, an overwhelming gratitude that responds by giving to and serving others — and yes, letting go.
[This poem was prompted by a bit of memory loss
as I get older, but also how some memories stay
longer than others.]
I cannot remember you name right now,
But occasionally, I do.
Your face seems more important somehow,
And that’s what stays in my view.
I cannot recall the time that we met,
Nor the place that we first were together.
However, it’s undoubtedly true,
That meeting, our connection’s forever.
I cannot recall some places I’ve been,
Or only but dimly in visions.
But somehow they stay so deep in my soul,
As if a location in heaven.
I don’t remember what brought me here,
Nor why I am in this location,
But wherever I am, God only knows,
It’s part of my destined vocation.
[I don’t especially like this poem I wrote, but I ran it by
some “friendly critics,” and they liked it, so here it is.]
Memories keep coming back —
My sins and failures of the past,
But, thankfully, the Lord was there —
To keep accusing — the Devil won’t dare.
Memories of friends that died,
Others, that I left behind —
Physic’ly, or in my mind.
Sometimes, perhaps, I was not kind.
Others left me at different times —
I didn’t know with my small mind
The reasons that would cause these rifts —
Perhaps they were a painful gift.
So many awkward, embarrassing scenes —
I almost have them in my dreams.
Still, better just to have a laugh
Than dwell upon a jumbled past.
Well, what’s a life without some pain?
Without it, some say, there is no gain.
And with a painful lesson learned
The joy that’s birthed is fully earned.
Could you be a farmer?
And leave the city, all secure,
Venture where it all depends
On God — and not on you?
But your hard work,
You’d never shirk,
If you were not to starve.
With breaking backs
Or robot machines,
You’d till the soil
By any means
To strain out, or
If the soil was rich —
Abundant food
That modern souls
Have not a clue —
The labor that
Our ancestors knew.
With sweating brows
And muscles that ached
From dawn to dusk,
For survival’s sake.
But surely there were
Good times, too.
The love of God,
The love of friends.
Quiet evenings,
As winter descends.
I’ve only read of farms in books,
The tales of homesteads,
Of babbling brooks —
Of Little Houses on the Prairie,
Of wild animals to be wary,
Of building cabins with bare hands,
Of bravely living off the land.
It’s a dream that might never be —
Still, younger folk can start, bravely.
Alas, old me, not strong enough —
Those people were made of sterner stuff.
I’ll keep on dreaming, and till my little plot.
Little dreams, too, can mean a lot.
clarakatalin 
The Piece That Won’t Fit
Lately, I’ve been slightly obsessed with comparing my understanding of life to putting together a jigsaw puzzle (see my previous post here)
Growing up in a family of six, we (at least us females) really enjoyed jigsaw puzzles. My older sister might have been the most talented at it, my mother the least. She lasted only a short time at the puzzle table, perhaps because she was busy, but possibly because she became frustrated with the process. Sometimes she was absolutely convinced that a piece belonged in a particular spot, and would declare, “But it HAS to go there!” almost trying to maneuver it into the hoped-for space. I must confess, I have done that myself.
Aren’t we all like that sometimes? We want something to work the way WE want it. We try all kinds of ways to make it work. In the end, we have more peace if we surrender and accept that it won’t work. Of course, there are times that we should fight to get something to work, like a cherished relationship. This takes some discernment — even in relationships we have to surrender our wish to be “right,” or our desire to get back at someone. In the long run, it takes prayer, discernment, and sometimes guidance from the Holy Spirit and others to decide what to let go of and what to fight for.
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