All the Little Pieces

My mind thinks well of itself. It is eager and ready, up in the morning to run the show. It makes a plan and executes it. It sizes up a situation, a person or a dilemma and moves forward to “handle” things. My mind is a handler.

But then He comes peaking from around the bend, “Hey Kimber, in all of your handling, where have you been?” I respond, “I’ve put my running shoes on like you told me to do. I’ve been up this hill and the next. Look at that mountain I claimed and the one over there.”

Again, “Kimber, where have you been?” Somehow I knew the question wasn’t about geography, but availability. I knew that He had come to collect all of the little pieces that Mind neglected. He came to collect my heart that was lagging behind on the mountains my will had in tow.

On one side was the handler and on the other, pieces on the floor. Now I am confused. These two don’t seem to work very well together. One often leads with no consideration of the other. Conquering all these kingdoms and living for the “go” I’ve certainly been living, but wait, my heart says, “No.”

Then masterfully He comes to stake out my heart, stalking in the corner, watching every action and passing thought. Then in the perfect moment His lasso is thrown and I feel the gentle tug- He’s calling me home. If I ignore the prodding, He’ll tighten the rope until it burns, digging into my chest, I feel the tearing of all of the pieces He’s come to collect.

The burn grows stronger still. Mind is powerless to act, but relinquishes its firm insistence in response to His strong persistence. I know I am an easy target with His advances, because of His indescribable need to have me I give little resistance. He’s not the type that is one day wanting and the next day done. No judgmental expectations sizing me up. No pointed calculations that are far out of my reach, simply He longs to love me.

He takes the dirty acid drops and the bitter waters from where Mind has drunk, He washes them away, all those less worthy voices and removes the cutting burs that have pierced through my worth. Then reminding me of who I am, lifting my eyes to Him again, I sing the words I wrote,

“Looking in the mirror I see your face staring back at me, with beauty and grace living right here inside of me. Now I know who I am-All the little pieces You’ve come to collect. All the little pieces of my neglect. All the little pieces are waiting for You.”