I hold the misplaced pieces
Of my life within my hand.
I wonder how could these pieces,
Ever fit God's perfect plan?
I look for the most perfect shape,
And try to find the best place.
But on my own the pieces
Don't seem to fit any space.
I can not fit them together,
Even as hard as I try.
Until I get so frustrated,
That all I can do is cry.
Then a soft voice speaks
as quietly as can be.
The pieces go much easier
If you ask for help from Me.
Lord, please help me with my puzzle.
I can't do this on my own,
These pieces don't fit together
When I work at it alone.
Put my puzzled life into place,
My whole heart is in Your hand.
Guide me Lord and help me to
Lay the pieces into Your plan.
Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
This poem was a finalist in the
August 2011 poetry contest