The last bell rings and graduation for Kathy’s students is only a few days away. The final semester for seniors is a sprint to the finish line and has its challenges. By the time her last student turns in the last assignment and the final grades are posted, she is spent. This year marks 20 years as a public school literature teacher. But unlike the football player whose team has just won the Super Bowl, she doesn’t want a trip to Disney World. Instead, she craves a time of solace and retreat.
On retreat, one doesn’t do stuff so much as reflect stuff. Our days at the retreat center north of Greensboro unfold as time spent reading, strolling, writing, hiking, watching, hearing, and sharing. To Kathy’s delight, the center has a huge collection of books on myriad subjects and boasts five libraries; some of the rooms have tables with chairs but others have comfy chairs and sofas. These encourage solitude. I develop a routine of finding my own way, and yet my paths always intersect Kathy’s paths. I like her, and I have the habit of gravitating toward her, even on retreat. Most often, she could be found in the largest library, the one with lamp lighting and comfy chairs, the one almost announcing that this is a place of silence and private contemplation. Her world slows down.
On a bookshelf in Kathy’s library, I find a collection of jigsaw puzzles, choose one, and go into another room, one with a large table adjacent to the coffee service area.
I love puzzles. I love solving and resolving puzzles. The graphic nature of the colorful bits draws me in; the challenge engages my mind.
I share my jigsaw fascination with daughters Mary and Amie. I recall that my mom enjoyed a good puzzle as well. But when I scatter pieces of puzzle onto a table, I think immediately about Paw Paw and his table with a jigsaw puzzle always in process. His front door opened into his family room, and straight across from the open front door sat his brown La-Z-Boy. Next to the recliner, he had a folding card table, and on that table stood a puzzle box lid with the colorful photo of a distant place.
Paw Paw readily gave his time to anyone venturing in, stopping for a good conversation with family and friends. His smile welcomed all into his sanctuary, and when he had company, he moved his table against the wall. People took precedence over puzzles, and I learned early how to prioritize time and attention by watching my grandfather. But in my memory, his puzzle in progress was always nearby. I don’t think I ever helped with the puzzles he worked; when I was there, he gave me his attention, another lesson he taught me about priorities.
I snap a photo of my puzzle box lid and send to Mary, put the puzzle pieces out, face up, and form the outer border of the jigsaw, separating the flat-edged pieces from the others. The majority of the pieces, the inside ones, lie in a single layer to the side. I stand the box top upright and begin. I listen to the hubbub of the coffee drinkers and resist stopping, my attention centered on the puzzle and its challenge. I work quickly and methodically, and before our afternoon walk, the puzzle is complete. I snap my “after” photo, type a message to Mary, and send to show off my accomplishment. (Mary sends a response, noting the quickness of the completion, and giving me encouraging emojis for a job well done!)
Thus began a new part of my days on retreat. Soon, people checked in on my progress. When I chose puzzles with bigger counts, they shook heads, smiled their encouragement and commented about how these challenges “sure were puzzling, huh!” The puzzles, meant to be a time-passer for a lone person, slowly drew me into community and shared cups of coffee, becoming common ground.
Paul instructs us in his letter to the Ephesians: “Make every effort to keep yourselves united in the Spirit, binding yourselves together with peace” (4:3). Time apart rejuvenates the spirit, and unity with like-minded people refocuses our energies, equipping us for our days ahead, confident that we are parts of one picture, uniquely suited to be one in peace, to love and serve the Lord.
Edminson encourages others through the Good News of Jesus. Invite him to speak to your church or organization. You can email him at wjedminson@bchfamily.org.
Written by By Jim Edminson, Editor of Charity and Children