I can remember putting together puzzles as a little girl. It was one of my favorite things to do. I even enjoyed assembling the same ones over and over at times. Even though this was a favorite pastime, there were elements of it that puzzled me (pun so intended). I didn’t understand why some pieces were merely colors, almost blank. They didn’t have a lot to go off of, so I found myself struggling to know where they belonged until closer to the completion of the puzzle. So blank and seemingly meaningless to the rest of the puzzle, when I found the place for them, I realized their significance after all. Sometimes they were the bright blue that help accentuate the white clouds in the day’s sky. Sometimes they were the blur of the tips of a girl’s hair who sat on the cobblestone sidewalk playing with her German Shepherd. And other times it would be the brush of green grass that the ducks fed on for vegetation.

I believe we go through life a lot like a puzzle–every season likened to the myriad of pieces. A lot of times we go through something–a bad breakup, losing a job, the death of a loved one–and in the moment, it’s so hard to recognize what that season even means in the grand scheme of things.

When my husband and I got married, we moved to Austin, away from my family and friends as well as his. We were in a stage of our lives when both of us were set apart from our upbringings at the same time. I can remember some days asking God, “Why does it have to be so hard?” Yes, singles, you heard me right–MARRIAGE IS SO HARD at times! Anyway, I think the biggest reason I struggled with this season was because I hardly ever (in the past) put my mind to something without seeing immediate results in a positive direction. I excelled in school, I bounced back from hard times, I was never without a job, etc. In other words, most of the time life came refreshingly easy to me. This time, the one thing I wanted so badly to be work didn’t come as easy. I wanted it to be true to the blueprint I had envisioned. And it seemed like when my husband and I would disagree, I would have the most difficult time accepting the fact that we didn’t have it all together like I thought we should. It was hard to understand that season–especially in the heated moments. So, I had a choice. I could stay in that place of frustration, confusion, and allow it to evolve into resentment towards my husband, or I could ask God to help me understand what He desired to teach me through that season.

When I changed my perspective and decided to look through God’s eyes, I saw the difficult times as an opportunity for Him to grow me in ways I’d never grown before. It helped me to take my husband’s criticism easier than in the past; it helped me to pursue prayer time and worship more intentionally; it helped me to respond differently in certain conversations with my husband; it helped me to realign my perception of marriage altogether. It pushed me towards a closer relationship with Jesus that, to this day, is sweeter than ever before.

Retrospectively, the piece of my puzzle when I was separated from my family and friends for a season was hard, but necessary. I needed it to grow me for the next season. Had we not been truly on our own, we wouldn’t have learned to fight together. We wouldn’t have had a chance to depend on each other in the good and heated moments like we needed to in order to appreciate our marriage even more. My puzzle pieces are blurry sometimes, but they’re necessary for the beautiful, bigger picture God designed. My prayer is that in the season you find yourself in–be it pleasant or uncomfortable–ask God to help you see how this piece fits into the grander puzzle God has designed specifically for you.