Sitting here in a room filled with praying souls, I envision a picture before me. From a distance my face stares back at me from a simple black frame. Something brings me closer to this portrait. It's like being under a magnifying glass. I begin to observe the fractures of a mosaic held together with mortar. Closer still I look, the ties begin to be clearer. They are snippets capturing defining moments in my life. Curious at which moment are being displayed, I try to make out what different tiles portray. I see the look on my parent's faces at my birth. I see my first time in church. There is a tile showing my dedication to the Lord. My grandpa's large brown hands palming my tiny head gently. I see me sitting in various Sunday School classrooms and church services over the years. I see the times I choose to raise my hands in surrender to the Master. I see birthday parties with my friend's eager faces. I find a tile of my dad's weary face as he prays for me in the wee hours of the morning. Every tile is held together by the mortar. I find more tiles. There is one of me sitting at our kitchen table with frustrated tears rolling down my face over a pile of home I didn't understand. While a couple more display my baptism and accepting Jesus as my own. There are a few of my high school choir. I find a few of good friends who made my life better. (Yes, you silly!) I find a tile or two of my high school prom and graduation. I see my wedding day, my son's birth and me standing watching my baby cousin's casket roll by. All these mosaic tiles are held together by mortar carefully placed by the Master's artful hand.
He that began a good work in me is able to complete it...
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