Have you ever taken a section of a puzzle and worked on it outside of the bigger puzzle? When you get the small section completed, you pick it up ever so gently, or you slide it across the table and place it into its final resting place in the puzzle. When you pick it up the pieces bend and shift, and if you’re lucky, you can get them into their new resting place without the pieces falling apart.
Today, I feel like a section of a puzzle.
I am holding myself together, but I am breaking. My sections are coming apart. I fear that in the near future my pieces will come apart. I fear that when they come apart, the edges will bend and chip, and they won’t ever fit back together.
The hands that hold me right now are polar opposites. I have hands that hold me with the intention of breaking me, and I have hands that hold me with the intention of putting me back together. I have people in my life who don’t speak my love language and who have no desire to ever speak it. I also have people in my life who do speak my love language – and speak it very well. Both are equally as difficult at this point. For so long, I have desired for someone to learn my love language and speak it to me and when it didn’t happen, my heart closed off.
Now that I have sweet friends who speak my love language to me, I don’t know how to take it in. It overwhelms my heart.
It scares me.