Your Life, a Masterpiece in the Making: A Puzzle Designed by God and Assembled by You

By Renae Green

Life happens. Every event that takes place in your life, every person you have ever met, every circumstance you have lived through has a place in your puzzle of life. Before you were born, God had created a beautiful masterpiece. It is filled with color, happiness, laughter and tears. It is filled with struggles as well as sweet triumphs. It is filled with every experience in your life, both good and bad. As you move through your life, the pieces of your puzzle are set one at a time. Each one is essential and relevant. When completed, your puzzle will finally make sense. You will be able to recognize how each piece has brought you to where you are today. Each piece fits, in some way, to help bring you to a place where God wants you to be. When something happens that is unbearable and you cannot find a reason for it, sometimes it is Gods own steadying hand that helps set the piece into place. Build your puzzle with confidence, one piece at a time, and know your masterpiece was created by the Master Himself, piece by important piece.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490894041

Renae Green

My life has been filled with trials and tribulations of all kinds. With each event I write about, I try to effectively portray how God has worked in my life and the lessons He has taught me along the way. I want to use what I have learned to help make your faith walk a little easier. Being married for twenty-five years, raising six children, as well as being a preschool teacher and a grandmother of three, has blessed me with many real-life stories. Some will make you smile, others make you think. But hopefully all of them will draw you a little bit further into yourself and a little closer to Him. Originally from Omaha, Nebraska, I now reside in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I love spending time with my family, picking up a good book, and listening to music. My passions are working with children, writing, and trying to make a difference in the world.

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Introduction

Everyone has a story. Every event that has ever happened to you, every circumstance you have ever lived through, every person you have ever met, every impact you have made in this world is a part of your puzzle. Each minute piece interlaces into a sort of jigsaw puzzle that will define your life. Every piece is absolutely necessary for the full picture. Each piece joins in such a way, that when completed, the puzzle makes sense. The tiny pieces with the dark corners, as well as the light ones with the rounded edges are needed to come together in an intricate fashion. Living through a life event that you don’t understand, presents a puzzle piece that sometimes you question if it will fit anywhere. When this happens, you may need to take that piece and set it aside for a while. It just doesn’t make sense quite yet. You may not be able to see how this illness, divorce, or this accident will fit. You may not be able to understand how this life event will help to make your life better, or how it will bring you to a place that you are stronger and wiser. You may not be able to understand how God is working through this event to bring you to a better place filled with more love, happiness and contentment than you have ever known. The building of your puzzle takes a lifetime, but when it is complete, when that last beautiful piece is set in with guided hands, it is only then that God’s masterpiece is finished. He can look at this work of art and say, Well done.

I promised my dad long ago that I would begin writing about my life and my experiences. I want to share with others what I have learned through each major event that has taken place in my life. The first part of the book is my story. These are compiled of events that have happened in my life. They are actual and as close to the truth as my mind allows me to be. The second part is about other things I have learned through teaching, being a parent, and simply living. They are puzzle pieces that I had picked up along the way and have chosen to add them to my complicated, beautiful puzzle. There are stories of other people who have inspired me in my own walk of faith. These are the pieces that I have intentionally embedded into my own puzzle of life because they have taught me more of what it means to be a Christian and a true believer of God. Most importantly, I owe the writing and compilation of this book to my Heavenly Father, who has taught me so much during each crisis and event. He has granted me the vision I needed to be able to see how I was being shaped by each obstacle and provided me with this ability to write. I want to use this gift to inspire others.

Through my stories, my hope is to help you understand where to focus your attention when in the depths of despair and to help give you a means to face challenges head on. Ultimately, I hope you are able to visualize the events in your own life as a learning experience and come out a stronger, better, and more faith filled person than you were before. Here is my attempt to make this world a little brighter, and maybe help you feel you are not alone when life happens.

Life happened for me on a regular basis. Many times I found myself and my family in the midst of things I did not understand and which I could not control. But I truly feel that it was with each of these crises which shook me to the core, I was able to find the strength I needed to overcome, to be at peace, and to share my testimony with others who are experiencing some similar life events. In the Bible, II Corinthians 1 talks about how God is the source of all comfort, and how we are to share that comfort with others when the opportunity arises.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God (II Corinthians 1:3-4 NIV).

Through each life experience I endured, I was able to find comfort and the strength to carry on through His Word. I was able to feel His hug of protection and tenderness that only He can provide in times of such distress. Through the sharing of my story, my hope is to provide that same comfort I received from God to others experiencing life’s unexpected events.

People have often referred to me as being strong. Perhaps living through adversity on so many different levels changes a person. Through each crisis I had to learn how to get past it. I had to learn how to survive. Sometimes it meant I had to simply learn how to get out of bed in the morning realizing what I had to face. I had to decide how to attack the problem without attacking others around me. I had to go into survival mode just to make it through the day. I wasn’t always strong. There were countless hot, burning tears shed, as well as innumerable why me questions. There were many days of deep, unending soul searching to discover if I had what it took to move on. It was similar to trying to climb a steep mountain. There were so many times I was paralyzed with fear. Every foothold I found was slippery, and I wasn’t sure if I could continue. But I did. I was able to gather the strength I needed to reach the summit through the Church, through family, through my dear friends, and most of all from God. He was my lifeline and my problem solver. He would be the one to catch me if I fell. That is the meaning of faith - to realize, to understand you are not walking alone, even if it feels like you are. It is in knowing that God will either calm the storm or calm the child. It is in knowing that because He cares for the sparrows He will care for me even more. There are times I need reminders, especially when I worry needlessly about events of tomorrow. There are times when things are going smoothly and I wondered if I didn’t need another crisis to make me more faithful and more thankful for what I have. Thank goodness I am not God and that I don’t make those decisions. Life inevitably will happen. There will be days of calm, beautiful peacefulness. Savor those moments, because right around the corner may be another lesson to be learned. I can honestly say that through each crisis, through each event, through the poverty I have experienced, it has helped form me into who I am today. The lessons I have learned through each storm have been invaluable, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

My pieces have joined together to define who I am. I am still not complete, my puzzle is still being assembled, but I feel like I’m getting there. The first piece of your life’s puzzle is placed when you are born. I was born to a mother and father and eventually had five siblings, two brothers and three sisters. We lived on a big lot, not quite in the city. We had neighbors who lived across the dirt road who became lifelong friends. Teri and her sisters were like a part of our own family. We were together so much of the time, mom invented play days to limit our time with each other. We had unusual animals including a horse that was blind in one eye, and a goat with blue painted horns, compliments of my mother. My young life was pretty uneventful. I was the second oldest. We were not wealthy, but we always seemed to have enough. We spent much of our time playing outside, and our imagination was our friend. We had a tiny television that was black and white. We didn’t get color until I was much older. We went on camping trips and spent a lot of time together. We were a church going family. We grew up Catholic, and we went to church every Sunday whether we wanted to or not. Life was good…predictable, but nice.

As many children seem to think, my daddy could do anything. He could fix anything that was broken, and always gave each of us the attention we would seek. One of my earliest memories was waiting for Daddy by the front door at the end of each week day. I remember the golden sunlight filtrating through the window as we stood with excitement waiting for him to come through the door. As soon as he walked in, he would greet us all with loving hugs, and proceed to give each of us a chance to walk on the ceiling. He would take turns holding us upside down and let our tiny feet touch the ceiling in a walking motion.

As we grew, we would spend a majority of our time outdoors. We would dig in the dirt, collect garter snakes, and make up games in the tall grass that towered over us. We drank out of the hose, skinned our knees, and ate popsicles in the front yard. We slept on cots under the stars and rode our tricycles and bicycles on the patio in one continual circuit. We never felt bored because there was always a new game that needed to be invented or some creature that needed to be discovered.

When I was twelve we moved out of the only home I had ever known and into a larger house on the western edge of town. All three sisters and I shared one long bedroom for a time. We now had a multitude of neighbors that we could play with. There were countless hours of playing Capture the Flag in the dark, as well as other all-inclusive neighborhood games. Mary became one of my best friends, and I remember innumerable nights sitting on the porch pondering all of life’s questions and helping her on her paper route. I acquired one of my first babysitting jobs in the neighborhood for six boys and one little girl. I was paid a whopping fifty cents an hour which was plenty to spend on our impromptu bike trips or when we would hike four miles to the dime store. Life seemed so simple.

Then the turbulent teenage years descended upon the household. I was in love with a boy, and too intelligent to listen to reason. I was always right, and no one could tell me what to do, including my father. We constantly butted heads. I felt like everyone was afraid to stand up to him, so I took it upon myself to do just that. I remember many intense yelling matches, but nothing ever physical. As a teenager I was trying to prove to the world that I was old enough and wise enough to make my own decisions. I didn’t want anyone, especially my father, to intervene on my perfect sense of self. Being a teenager is a time of transition from childhood to adulthood. It is a sometimes rocky, broken path filled with many potholes and valleys. It is a time of self-discovery, as well as a time of making dreadful mistakes. I never was able to appreciate my parents’ wisdom until I walked alongside my own children when they became teenagers.

I fell in love during high school and it lasted five years, too long in hindsight. It was when I went away for college that we decided to go our separate ways. In college I was finally on my own! I was making my own decisions, many of which were not good. One of the main decisions I made was to stop going to church. Every once in a while I would go with a friend, but there were just too many distractions and other more important things at that point in my life than God. Little did I know that when I was older, it would be the church that would help me survive in this crazy world. I made some bad choices, and ultimately dropped out of school and moved home. I ended up pregnant, scared and so alone. I remember breaking the news to my parents, and now that I am older, I can see why their hearts broke. Here I was their precious daughter with a whole future ahead of me. They had visions of what I may one day do with my life, and it all came to a shattering halt. Now their daughter was going to be a mother.

It was only because of that life altering event that I decided it was time to start taking life seriously. I reentered the local college, and majored in elementary education. I actually received very good grades, including being added to the Dean’s List. I excelled in math! I never thought that was possible. After ten long, interrupted years of college, I obtained my four year degree. I met one of my best friends while in college, and I can say to this day, Dawn is still one of the dearest people in my life. I landed my first teaching job when my daughter was five. We were on our way….so I thought. I was becoming a grown up.

My pieces began to gently fall into place. My puzzle was beginning to take shape. The ones with the odd shapes from college began blending with the more rounded, lighter colored ones of being more in control of my life and future. I was determined to make a good life for my daughter and myself.

One by one, the pieces were dropped into my puzzle. I was trying to learn to be a mom and a teacher and a grown up. I was trying to learn responsibility and how to survive in this great big world. My daughter was my main focus now. Every choice I made would be considered carefully with forethought knowing my ultimate decisions could have a direct impact on my daughter’s life.

One day I woke up and decided it was time to enter the dating scene again. I hadn’t dated for seven years! I was scared, but the idea was intriguing. I joined a dating company, called New Beginnings. This was before the current fad of online dating. The company actually did an on-camera interview with the client. Other members would view the VHS tapes, and then decide if this was a person they wanted to pursue. I had a list, a lengthy list of the people I had dates with. Many times it was just one date, other times several, but I had to have a list in the back of my address book so I could keep them straight. It was easy to get them confused with each other. There would be some weeks I would meet three new people with diverse names and distinctive qualities, so my list came in very handy.

That particular summer I got a job at an apartment complex. It was a little bit scary. My job was to show empty apartments to prospective renters. I never felt comfortable doing that. Some of the people who came in looked rather intimidating. I would be inside vacant apartments alone with complete strangers pointing out the outlets and closet spaces, all the while planning my escape if by chance I would need to make a quick exit. I also worked in the office. One day a scraggly guy came in to pay rent. He had shaggy collar length hair, and a full beard and mustache. He was not the typical man I would seek out for a relationship. He asked the manager who I was. Little did I know that he would end up as a tremendous piece of my puzzle. This man turned out to be Greg, my husband.

My friend, Dawn, and I frequented a nightclub where he happened to work. Greg asked me for my number, and I declined, because I had so many other people I was trying to keep straight. Dawn said there was no way I should add to it. By the end of the night, against Dawn’s advice, I gave him my number. After talking, we discovered we went to the same grade school and high school. Greg knew my cousins and we grew up within blocks of each other. It was, indeed, a small world. We went that following weekend to a church picnic, and the weekend after to a dinner at our old high school. Two months after meeting we ended up getting married at the courthouse. Our families met each other for the first time on the day of our wedding. Looking back on the short time we had known each other, there is no way I would ever recommend that brief courtship and marriage to anybody.

In March of that following year, we welcomed our first daughter, Rachel. A couple of months after that, he adopted my oldest daughter, Miranda, as his own. He was determined to be a daddy for her…something she had never experienced. I was delighted. We then had our marriage blessed by the church, which was important to both of us.

When our Rachel was eight weeks old, we discovered we were going to have another baby. Gregory II was born in January of the following year, then when he was twelve weeks old, we found out we were going to have another! That time I did cry. I was afraid, partly because the others had been C-sections and this one would be too. But I was even more apprehensive because I would literally have three babies at the same time aged one and under, and I wasn’t sure if I could juggle it all effectively. In January, our newest baby boy, Cameron, made his appearance into our family. It was chaos; it was crazy; it was fun. We had three with bottles, three in diapers, and two cribs with a toddler bed in one room. Miranda was going through some major adjustments herself. She felt like her world as she knew it was completely gone…which it was. I wrote a lot of poetry during those years as the children inspired me with their antics. There were days I would just adore being home with my young children, and other days when I would just sit down in the middle of three crying babies and cry too. I do admit there was a little bit of jealousy because Greg was able to get out of the house to go to work in the real world while I stayed home washing bottles. I remember thinking that he got to go to the bathroom by himself and he got lunch breaks! It was tough, but looking back, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I realize now how extremely fortunate I was to be able to stay at home to raise my children myself. I didn’t have to worry about daycare nor the problems that can materialize from unqualified staff. I was blessed.

Shortly after Cameron was born, Greg lost his dad. That was perhaps the first major event that affected us as a couple. He then got a job offer and promotion in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I always said I would never leave Omaha. But this was an offer that was too good to pass up, so we decided to move. We had one weekend to find a rental house. We found a good-sized older house in the downtown area. We knew no one. My parents helped us move in the middle of a snowstorm. I had to finish moving in and unpacking boxes while Greg stayed in Omaha one last week to finish up his other job. It was crazy! I was alone, with three babies and a pre-teen girl, in a new place, and no one to talk to. This puzzle piece was one that was pretty dark…all of the sides looked the same, so I didn’t know which end to put where. It was a piece that was confusing and cloudy, and I didn’t know if I would ever find a place for it.

I truly believe that it was with this move, with this huge transition and life-changing event, that my puzzle began to take formation. I remember thinking that this critical period shortly after the move was the worst that would occur. I was alone in a new town, and essentially having to start all over with my life. Little did I know that things were going to get considerably worse, and the move would pale in comparison. I didn’t ask for any of what was to come. Things would spin totally out of control, and there would be instances when I would question if we were even going to make it as a couple or a family. We would be thrown into the depths of despair. It would be during this time I would learn how to pray— how to really pray. I would learn what faith really means and how to be humble. I would learn that even though that mountain may seem insurmountable, I would need to look around and find someone else who had mountain climbing equipment I could borrow. And if all else failed, I would need to take a ride on that lift that only God offers those who trust in Him.

Sometimes when life throws you into dark valleys, you may feel like your puzzle is coming apart. You may feel like there is no way you will be able to make it through on your own. This is the time when you realize that a bigger, more steady hand than your own, must help to gently guide the pieces into place. God’s own, steady, reassuring, problem solving hand knows exactly where the pieces must go. Remember, He had already created your finished puzzle before you even took your first breath. Many times during life, you will need to step aside and let Him show you where the pieces fit.

Illnesses

I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you (Luke 10:19 NIV).

My son, Gregory, suffers from OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Since he was an infant we knew something wasn’t quite right. When he was only a few months old, he would cry every night. The only way we could soothe him when he went to bed was by letting him touch one of us. We had an oversized stuffed panda bear we won at a silent auction. The bear would sit in the babies’ room next to my son’s crib. Every night my husband, Greg, would lie on that fluffy bear next to his crib, and let Gregory touch his hand or face, so he could relax and be reassured enough to drift off to sleep. This was repeated every night without any complaint from my husband. Many nights I would get up at 2AM and find Greg, himself asleep on top of that big bear. Gregory would be sleeping soundly, his restless mind quieted for a few precious hours. Greg, being the wonderful daddy he is, knew this was what he needed to do. He had to show his son that he was there to protect him and would not let anything happen to him. It was a security that could only be offered by his big, strong daddy. With that touch, Gregory was able to let his conscious mind relax enough and drift off into a peaceful sleep. Greg let his little boy know that as long as he was next to his crib, nothing bad could touch him. He was his baby’s ultimate protector. After watching this great act of love, I could not help but notice that this is exactly what God has done for me. Every day He very gently lets me know that He is there. He won’t let me fall. He won’t let anything happen to me. He is my ultimate protector and keeps me safe. Just as Greg was his son’s security, God is mine. My Heavenly Daddy still holds me when the dark comes, and because of that I can find the peace I need to let go. I can rest safely and peacefully in His arms.

When Gregory was finally able to verbalize, we discovered the real reason for the terror he always felt. He was constantly afraid he was going to die. It wasn’t that he thought he was going to die; it was that in his mind, in his young, sweet mind, he was dying.

He would need reassurance practically every single waking hour. Many, many times every day he had to be reassured that what he smelled, ate, touched, and what he heard was not going to kill him. He would cry for hours every night. It took its toll on the whole family. I would hear even his siblings reassuring him. It became part of our normal routine. I would do some housework, and assure him the cleanser would not kill him. I would make the bed and assure him the dust he saw in the air wouldn’t kill him. In the car I would have to assure him the exhaust was not getting into the van. Night would be even worse than the day. He would lie in bed sobbing, I’m dying! The reassurances we had to give him got old quickly. Soon, my nice, Oh honey, you’re fine. Everything is fine. You are healthy, and safe… became, "You are NOT dying! Now go to sleep!" Then I had a brainstorm. Perhaps if he had pictures to focus his attention on, he would think less about dying. I made a poster of cut out magazine pictures he helped to select and put it by his bed so he could look at them instead of obsessing on his thoughts. It didn’t work. We tried soothing music and even TV. We prayed every night for protection for him.

But even with all of our efforts in trying to help him, whenever there was a cloud in the sky, his mind told him there was a tornado and it was headed straight for him. We even found him one sunny day sleeping in the basement closet because he had seen a cloud. Every time a plane would fly over, his mind told him he was going to be bombed, and it was going to land on him. Every time he touched something that had been cleaned with a cleanser, he wouldn’t be able to eat with that hand for months because his mind told him it was poison, and if he touched his mouth with that hand he would die.

We found an amazing counselor, Roy, who tried to help. At first when Gregory began to see him he was so young, they would try play therapy. As he got older, the sessions became more direct. Roy tried to help him see the logical side of his thinking. He tried to teach him self-talk techniques. Roy found relaxation exercises that Gregory had taped inside his desk when he was in first grade so he could try to work out some of his anxiety on his own during the school day. He was teased in school. He was different and no one could ever understand why.

Gregory had many dark days growing up. After being bullied and obsessing for years, he did, at times, think life was not worth living. He had been so shredded internally, he had been in such depths of despair, so tormented by his mind that he didn’t think there was any way out. He had been hospitalized a couple of different times because of suicidal thoughts. He was put on different medications which helped with some of the thoughts, but OCD is a lifelong disease. Thankfully, Gregory had one true friend who stood by his side through all of his darkest days. Kyle was always right there when Gregory needed him most. Kyle was Gregory’s lifeline on earth. Whenever Gregory felt like he was falling, Kyle would be right there to pick him up, and to help reassure him tomorrow would be brighter. Gregory realizes that he will have to learn to live with and cope with this illness as symptoms appear. It will never go away, but he can channel the negative thoughts to good. Just within the last two years he has lost one hundred pounds, and works out at the gym for three hours, five days a week. Is it obsessive? Yes! But it’s much better than sleeping for days at a time. He graduated with a Law Enforcement degree and works security in some very questionable areas of town, which just amazes me. He has recently moved out of the house and has his sister as a roommate. He is doing amazingly well and in September of 2015 he will be the best man at Kyle’s wedding. That’s what friends are for.

Throughout his illness, Gregory has learned to read the Bible and to sleep with the Bible on his bed. He knows that God is in control, but he