God Sees the Whole Puzzle: Trusting the One Who Sees All

Yesterday morning, as I was getting ready for Mass, I listened to the Season 4 finale of the Butterfly Girl Podcast, “Walking Forward Whole.” I wasn't prepared for how emotional I would become listening to my own words. Season 4 has been about moving from wounds to wholeness, and in the finale, I reflected not only on what each of my guests had shared but also on my own journey. I talked about how healing hasn't meant forgetting what happened or reaching some imaginary place where nothing hurts anymore. It has meant learning that my wounds don't get to tell me who I am. Jesus does.

As I listened, I found myself thinking about where my life has been and where it is now. There was a time when I saw so much of my life through the lens of what had happened to me. Over time, God began changing that slowly and patiently. Through people, prayer, therapy, spiritual direction, Scripture, the sacraments, friendships, and countless ordinary moments, He began showing me that my story was bigger than the things that had wounded me.

In the episode, I said something that struck me differently when I heard myself say it. I used to think peace would come once everything finally made sense. Now I know I can still have questions and trust the One who has the answers. Maybe that was why the tears came. I could look back and see things I couldn't see when I was living through them.

Then I went to Mass. Throughout the Mass, we sang O Bless the Lord, My Soul, Come, Ye Thankful People, Come, Fairest Lord Jesus, and I Sing the Mighty Power of God. The readings were from Isaiah, Psalm 145, Philippians, and Matthew. I was already carrying everything I had been thinking and feeling while listening to the podcast when Father Littlefield began talking about these words from Isaiah: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.”

Suddenly, the morning connected. Father talked about the times when our thoughts and ways don't align with God's because we don't see all the pieces of the puzzle, but God does. That was exactly what I had just been reflecting on while getting ready for Mass.

There have been so many moments in my life when I was holding one painful piece of the puzzle and couldn't understand what God was doing. I wanted answers. I wanted things to be different. I wanted to know why certain things had happened and why God wasn't changing circumstances the way I thought He should. I couldn't see the picture. I could only see the piece in my hand.

Now, looking back, I can see more of the picture. Not all of it, of course. There are still things I don't understand, and I suspect there always will be. But I can see God's fingerprints in places where I couldn't recognize them before. That is something I talked about in the podcast too. There were seasons when I couldn't feel God's presence, but He was still providing what I needed. Sometimes I simply didn't recognize that He was carrying me.

Maybe that is why the words from Psalm 145 felt so fitting too: “The Lord is near to all who call upon him.” God's nearness doesn't mean we will always understand what He is doing. Sometimes we won't. Sometimes the piece in our hands won't make any sense at all, but He is still near.

Father Littlefield also talked about how God is continually calling us to conversion, to change, and to grow closer to His Sacred Heart. That connected with another theme that ran throughout the podcast season. Healing and transformation aren't things we finish. We are always becoming. God continues to work in us one day, one surrender, and one yes at a time. That is where I am. I am still becoming, still healing, still learning to surrender, still discovering places in my life where my ways aren't God's ways, and still learning that I don't need to understand everything before I trust Him.

Then came Communion. At some point, some of the Precious Blood was spilled on the floor. I watched as one of the Eucharistic Ministers carefully and reverently purified the place where it had fallen, and I became teary-eyed again. After everything I had been thinking about that morning, there was something about watching that moment that touched me deeply.

That was the Blood of Christ. The Blood of the One who had been with me through every piece of the puzzle. The One who was there when I knew He was there and when I couldn't feel Him at all. The One who was there through the wounds and the healing. The One who has patiently been changing the way I see myself and my story, while teaching me to recognize His presence even in the moments I didn't understand. The One who sees the entire picture. And perhaps most importantly, the One who doesn't stand at a distance waiting for me to figure everything out. He gives Himself to me.

That may be what tied the entire morning together for me. Before Mass, I had listened to myself reflect on how far God has brought me. During Mass, I was reminded that His ways are not my ways because He sees what I cannot see. Then, in the Eucharist, I was reminded that the God who sees the whole picture is not distant. He is near.

Looking back over my life, I can see more pieces now than I could years ago. I can see people God placed in my path. I can see moments of grace I didn't recognize at the time. I can see ways He was working when I thought nothing was happening. But I still don't see the whole puzzle, and maybe I never will in this life.

Perhaps walking forward whole isn't about finally understanding every piece. Maybe it is about reaching the place where I can look at the piece in my hand, even the one I don't understand, and trust the God who sees where it belongs. Yesterday reminded me that I don't need to see the whole picture.

I know the One who does.