The Big Picture on Judging

I like to work puzzles a particular way.  I like to work them without the box top and from inside out.  I don't want to know what the puzzle is intended to look like, and I don't want to size it up first.

Now, you may be thinking to yourself how silly this is, but it is my preference.  Maybe I'm not that good at working puzzles...

When you make a comment in a dissertation of how to complete puzzles in a popular puzzle-working magazine (or in a public or private conversation) on the ideal, best, or most effective method to working puzzles, I may take offense.  However, my offense is unfounded. 

Are you judging me?  You have not indicted me personally; you have expressed your philosophical view on a topic expressing a standard.  You most likely wouldn't come to me in confrontation and attack me on how foolish my method is.  As a person, you may come to me in an opportune season and lovingly, logically, or otherwise discuss my methodology with me.

After careful thought (or empirical evidence), you may determine that the method I use is bad, less effective, or not ideal.  You have judged my method (not me).  To be considered judgmental, you would have to form an opinion too quickly.  You have not too quickly judged me at this point, you have merely expressed your view on how to complete a puzzle. When you treat me differently because of your opinion, then you are being judgmental.

Jesus did not come to judge or condemn but rather to save.  Jesus came declaring truth, but He did not condemn; that was unnecessary because we are already condemned (John 3:16-18).

The Missing Piece

One previous post dealt with lost pawns (keeping an eternal focus), and another dealt with substituting pieces (traditional marriage) - both leaning on the chess analogy.  In this blog, however, I'll borrow an analogy from jigsaw puzzles.

What is the most important piece of a jigsaw puzzle?  There are many good answers including...
- the corner pieces - to frame the puzzle
- the edge pieces - to provide boundaries
- the center pieces - to fill in the subject matter
- the first piece - to start well
- the last piece - to complete
- the box top - to set out the big picture

However, I'd suggest that the most important piece is the "missing piece."  Recently while my young bride and I worked a small puzzle that she got on a trip to the Texas State Capitol and the Alamo, we wound up missing a piece of the puzzle.  This piece in particular was an edge piece, so we were looking for it from the beginning.  It was suspicious that we hadn't found it even halfway through working the puzzle, so we could see the writing on the wall fairly early.

What does the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle represent?  It represents incompletion.  Something (presumably) out of our control prevented us from reaching our goal.  [I say presumably because we could have lost that piece.] 

The analogy of the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle applies to our lives in many fashions. 
- your hunt for a job immediately after college - you have no experience
- your desire to attend a sold-out sporting event - you have no ticket
- your pursuit for independence - you have no driver's license (or money, etc.)

Some of these factors are within our control and some are not.  Sometimes it is our decision that limits us and manifests itself as the missing piece.  Perhaps you want a better job, but it requires better job performance.

In the kingdom of God, we are all pieces of God's eternal puzzle.  Some pieces are played early and firmly; others are first mangled and forced in; some are played in the wrong spot; and still others are never played at all.  Which piece are you in God's eternal puzzle?  Prayerfully and carefully seek out your position.  Don't be the missing piece.