September, 2000

The Final Piece
By Linda Matthews

Many of us, at some time another, have either been given or have bought a puzzle to put together. In the box were many pieces, all cut in different shapes and sizes, and each one had a specific place where it would fit. It would fit nowhere else. Anyone who has ever tried to shove a puzzle piece into a place it didn't go knows that the picture just didn't make sense. And you couldn't use a piece from another puzzle to make it right either. It had to come from the same source, the same box, the same picture... nothing else would do.

Did you ever wonder if God had completed puzzles in His heart... pictures we could never see until that last, final piece of the puzzle was in place? I have, and this is the story of one such picture. This is the story of a puzzle that I tried to put together many times, using pieces from other sources and boxes, wrong sizes, colors, and shapes, to produce something that I would call a perfect picture. It never did come out right until God placed the final, perfect piece into the almost completed puzzle, a puzzle that started out as a complete picture in His eyes but the pieces in this earth had to be orchestrated into place.

God supplied the piece that I couldn't find, that piece that somehow just never showed up until the end, the piece I searched for and looked over many times, yet never truly saw it. I thought I had lost it until the very end, when I realized that the piece that was left laying on the table was the piece that went into that final space. That last piece I saw was placed into that space and a complete picture emerged.

And so our God works in this mysterious way. Here is the story of the final piece of the puzzle, the piece that completed the picture, the piece that I never even considered placing into that empty space until God, by His amazing grace, showed it to me and placed it in the puzzle Himself so that I could behold a masterpiece more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. It is His finished work.

Besides the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer I said every night, there was only one thing I ever asked God for... to live long enough to get married and have a baby. I had a wonderful view of marriage back in those days and, in my eyes, there was nothing that could mar that vision. I dreamed of a wonderful husband who loved me more than life itself and a child, preferably a little girl, who looked just like both of us. From the first time I prayed that prayer, I set out on a long journey to find the man of my dreams who also shared that same vision.

In 1988, I was working at a local grocery store when I met a young boy named John. His most distinguishing features were his crystal blue eyes and his California surfer haircut. Though he, at the age of seventeen, was five years younger than I, I still could not get my eyes off this boy. It didn't help much that I worked with him. I always made a point to be right up under his feet and he always made a point to let me know that he knew I was there. It was an interesting relationship to say the least.

We began to date while he was still in high school. I had already graduated and had even been to college some. Still, that did not deter me. I knew that I wanted to be with this boy for the rest of my life. We spent every opportunity we could together and, to beat it all, I ended up with him at his Senior prom where I was the oldest date there. I was bold and unashamed. I loved him.

As our relationship developed over that one year, we began to talk about marriage. I wanted this more than anything, but there was an obstacle. He was going to be joining the Air Force. I cried for days when he told me this, but still hoped beyond hope that he would either change his mind or he would be stationed somewhere close. I did not get what I had hoped for. He was to leave in late June for boot camp in Texas and was to be stationed in Abilene thereafter. Not good news to me, but I wanted him to be happy. He came from a military background and that familiarity had bred a desire to carry on that heritage. I would stick by him no matter what. I spent my days laughing with him and my nights crying alone.

About a month before he left for boot camp, he asked me to marry him in the spring of the following year. We were sitting in a Pizza Hut eating a jalapeno pizza when he popped the question. I, of course, agreed without even another thought of the distance that was to soon be between us. It really didn't matter; God had answered the first half of my prayer.

The day finally came to see him off. I rode to the airport with his parents to view probably the most heart wrenching moment of my life so far. I watched as the plane pulled away from the dock and took off down the runway. The sight of that big metal bird in the air was enough to stamp "inconsolable" across my heart. Still, I prayed that the day he would return would come quickly and that we would be together once again.

During John's absence, we kept in touch through letters and occasional phone calls. He would tell me when he called that he waited anxiously for mail call each morning. His salvation from the rigors of basic training were in the letters I sent pledging my undying love for him. My salvation was in those phone calls. John was always more expressive in word than in letter. I was the opposite of that. My thoughts were best written. We were a complement to each other... two halves that made a whole.

After three months had gone by, I finally got the opportunity to go see him. I had lost a lot of weight (go figure), had an awesome tan (I cheated and went to the tanning salon), and had done some work on my hair. I was ready to go see him. I boarded a jet plane wearing a bright red, ankle length formal and white high heels (very high heels). I discovered not long after I boarded the plane that this attire was not the most appropriate nor the most comfortable. My plane made a stopover in Minneapolis where I had to unload and board another plane. The plane I had to catch was at Gate 1.... I unboarded at Gate 18. Needless to say, I felt like I would never be able to walk again after I made that journey in a pair of three inch heels. By the time I reached Dallas, my hair was a mess, my dress was wrinkled beyond repair, my makeup had sweat off, and my feet ached beyond anything I had ever experienced. Still, his smile was worth it all when I got off that plane.

We spent that week just enjoying each other's company. I got to see him march in the graduation ceremony and then joined him at the club for a dance. It was my first time away from home by myself so I made the most of it. He took me around the base to see the sites and even managed to get an off base pass so that he could show me around Abilene. It was an awesome week, but it was going to end soon. I dreaded the day.

Leaving that day was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. I prayed that time would pass quickly and that spring would come soon. It was all I had to hold on to... that hope. I still dreamed of the day that my ring finger would wear the symbol of his eternal love for me. That day could not come fast enough.

About two months after I left Abilene, I noticed that his letters and his calls were becoming few and far between. I began to search his previous letters for some kind of clue as to why he had stopped communicating. I read them over and over, hoping that maybe he was just too busy to call or write. About a month later, I found out from his mother that he had a girlfriend in Texas. I was crushed. I went back to those precious letters, reading them over and over, looking for the reason why. There was never any indication in any of them... they just stopped coming. As I soaked my pillow every night, I continued to pray that he would return to me. I would not have it any other way.

In February of the following year, I sent him a friendship only Valentine card. I do not know what made me do that. We had not talked for three months and I had all but given up. The reception of that card brought a phone call from him. He thanked me and then went on to say that he still loved me. Needless to say, I was wary when he asked me to return to Texas again. I hesitated and then responded that I would come in five months if he still felt the same way. He vowed that he would. I simply responded, "We'll see." I wasn't about to waste a bunch of money on a burnt run. It had to be for real or not at all. I refused to be a "home only" girlfriend or an "in betweener". I had to be the only one.

Five months later found me in Texas once again, much older and much wiser. I did not wear an ankle length formal or high heels this time. I was not going to repeat that mistake. He was going to have to take me as he saw me or not at all. As I unboarded a plane in Texas for yet the second time, a million questions were ringing in my mind. Would this be like the last time? Who was this girl anyway? Was she completely out of the picture? Why did they break up? Did John really love me? I did not have any of the answers, but I knew that I wanted to be where I was at that moment.

We spent the week getting to know one another again. Walking, talking, reminiscing, laughing. We had a wonderful time. Then something very unexpected came up. His friends began to ask him why he did not just go ahead and marry me in Texas and then set up house while I was back in Tennessee. To both of us, this sounded like a pretty good deal. We had reestablished our relationship and nothing was in the way anymore. The past dirt was shoveled away and we began again on a brand new road.

We began to make the plans to go to a justice of the peace. Since it was a holiday weekend, this was going to require me to stay past the day I originally planned to leave. This also required a call to my mother. It was not a pleasant call, but my mind was made up. If John could get me a decent rate on a plane ticket then I was going to come home a married woman. And came home a married woman I did. I came home to two very angry mothers who rode all the way to the airport together and had made the air in the car so thick you could cut it. Then they made me drive them home after that exhausting plane trip. They were not happy, but I was blissfully happy. Now, all I had to wait for was the day he would come to retrieve me and I would be where I really belonged.... at his side... forever. My puzzle was almost complete.

Forever is a long time. Longer than many of us realize. It is a word we use loosely, not realizing the ramifications of whatever we used that word to describe. When speaking of a marriage, a covenant between two people, forever should be the word used. Marriage is not to be taken lightly nor should the two be unequally yoked.

In September of 1989, John came to get me. I had just quit a job that was paying me over eight dollars an hour and was leaving my very best friend in the whole world so that I could move and be with him. It was bittersweet. I loved my friend; she had been with me through it all. But I had to go. This is what I had dreamed of, prayed for, and waited for all my life. This is what dreams were made of.

We were only married for four months and together for one when I became pregnant with our first child. It looked like things were finally going my way and I looked forward to the day when this child would be born. Nine months later, Justin Neil Matthews was born. Not exactly a girl, but a child nonetheless. We named him a true Texan name and delighted in him as we realized that we were now more than a couple... we were a family.

During the pregnancy, we moved from an apartment to a duplex. It was not an easy move, but we needed more space. John was, at that time, helping with the computer and was on call every second of every day. Even when the beeper was given to someone else, he was still called when they could not handle the problem. This became a great source of tension in our marriage. I hated him being gone all the time and hated the excuses he gave. I began to think that computers meant more to him than our son or myself. I fed on that day and night. We argued constantly. This was not what dreams were made of. Yet still, I had my little puzzle put together and that was enough.

Another source of tension in our marriage was the "religion" issue. He was a Baptist, I was a Church of Christ. We had both been raised in these churches and neither one of us was willing to give for the sake of the other. Each Sunday, John would take off to his church and Justin and I would take off to mine. Justin had to be with me... after all, I nursed him. What better excuse to have him with me at all times.

Our separate ways regarding church continued for a time. Then, one day, John had had enough. He sat me down and told me that Justin and I would be attending with him and that we would be going as a family from then on. I simply stated that he would have to drag me. Those were words spoken in vain since he never did have to drag me anywhere. I loved him enough to make him happy.

Somewhere, right about in the middle of his tour of duty, John decided that he wanted to pursue a call to preach. This was something that I was not comfortable with since it seemed like preachers never made very much money. Neither did the Air Force, but at least it was steady income. The thought of being a preacher's wife was not at all appealing to me at first. I was not even a Christian. I was religious, not born again. The last thing in the world I wanted now that I was by his side was for him to leave the Air Force. I loved it there. We had base housing and easy access to everything on base. In my eyes, there was not anything better than being a military wife. This small difference of opinion was big enough to get his mother involved. She really wanted him to answer that call. I felt like she was pushing him into something he might not be ready for and something that I definitely was not ready for. Tension mounted as more people got involved.

A little over a year after John began to talk about taking an early out to pursue the call on his life, I became pregnant again. There were some who thought this was a plot to keep John in the Air Force. I simply reminded them that it took two to tango. The birth of this child would take place right before John's four year mark in the Air Force. He was on his way to Staff Sergeant and more money. Yet still, I really wanted him to be happy no matter what. As I pondered the thought of being the wife of a preacher, it began to not seem so bad. I had been attending church with John for a while and was actually enjoying it. When I found out that John's mother had been talking with him regarding my reluctance, I called her. I made mention of the fact that I was not as against John's decision to preach as she thought I was. That was the beginning of a brand new relationship with her.

Two weeks after our second son, Brian William Matthews, was born, John left the Air Force and we headed back to Tennessee. The first thing we did was place membership at a local Baptist church and the schooling of the Holy Spirit began with me. I listened and learned a lot that year but never truly had a personal relationship with Jesus. John had this relationship, but I did not know how to get it much less know what it meant to have it. I watched his walk with God and yearned for that kind of life. My past had a tremendous hold on me and I didn't know how to get rid of it. I wanted what he had, but no one could seem to say the right words that would explain to me exactly how that kind of life was lived. I knew I could not live a Christian life in my own strength... I messed up too much. I had no idea what it meant to be truly born again. But that time was coming. God has perfect timing.

In 1993, our family moved to a house in Lynchburg, Tennessee. We had been living back and forth with our parents and we were glad to finally have a place of our own. To me, the fun was just beginning. John had gotten a really good job and, later that year, I got one. We were making pretty good money and all those fears about being poor the rest of our lives began to dissipate.

In May of that same year, I became pregnant again but lost the baby at five weeks. Something was wrong though. John and I were not communicating like we once did. Every little thing was setting off arguments. I hounded him with questions and in return he spent more time at work. We never saw one another. Once again, I began to wonder if he even loved me anymore, much less our two children. He did, but I could not see that. All I could see was the mistakes he made, mistakes that I would not let go, mistakes that I used as a reason to get him out of my life.

In February of 1994, I packed his clothes and drove him to work. I did not go pick him up. Six months pregnant now with our third son, I was alone and afraid. This made the attention from a male friend at work all the more special. I just wanted to be given attention, attention that I did not believe my husband had given me. He was gone anyway and I was not going to ever let him come back.

I married that man from work in 1996. He was much older than me, a refreshing change from my first husband. Though I loved this man, I could not get over the fact that I had hurt John by leaving him. I was under a heavy burden of condemnation that prompted a seeking for God that was beyond anything I had ever known. I would turn to "a woman that remarries is an adulteress" in the Bible and weep because I believed that was me. I could not enjoy the present marriage for the guilt I was bearing. I needed someone to take that guilt away. One day He found me.

I worked third shift at the nursing home in our town. We had just acquired a new supervisor, a woman who walked in her first night, called a meeting, and simply stated, "My name is Dorothy Bailey. I am saved and praying for all of you." Needless to say, I was impressed at that kind of boldness and so glad someone was praying for me. I sure needed it. I became drawn to this woman who called herself saved and prayed for me. I wanted to get to know her.

Over the course of a few months, Dorothy and I became friends. We would talk about the Bible and my interest would grow. So would my desire to know the Jesus she knew. One morning, I went up to the desk, sat down backward in a chair and simply asked, "What about divorce and remarriage?" The only words out of her mouth were, "It is better to marry than to burn." I didn't at that time know what happened, but I knew that when I got home, all guilt was gone. I had been set free by the Word of God and, for the first time in my life since I divorced my first husband, I felt like I could actually enjoy the man I was at that time married to. It was a wonderful feeling.

I began to attend church with Dorothy. I did not believe the same way she did, but I trusted her not to take me to a place where I would get hurt. She invited me to a Praise and Worship service on a Tuesday night. She asked me to pray about going. I decided to go without praying; I just wanted to be with her. I was not there long before I figured that I should have prayed and I could have avoided all of this "stuff" I did not believe in. I just stood and watched, wondering how all this could be going on and not one person was putting a stop to it. You have to remember, I was raised in a very solemn church. No hands raised, no shouting, no dancing... just sitting quietly. I may not have believed in what was going on, but I did know one thing-- I felt at home when I walked into that place that night. I was loved by people who had never even seen me before. I was accepted. I knew I would be back.

As I was leaving work on Wednesday morning, the day after my initial visit to this church, I asked Dorothy what time church started that night. She said, "Seven o'clock" and then asked me if I was coming. I said, "Yes, I believe so." She just smiled like as if she knew it the whole time. I walked out of there that morning not knowing why I was being drawn to go back.

I drove into the parking lot that Wednesday night and waited for my friend to get there. She drove up and we walked in together. She sat me on the front row with her, just like she did the night before. Uncomfortable place for me, it was. I was used to the back row. Never liked to be too close to a preacher. Might get my toes stepped on.

As the preacher began to minister, I knew what he spoke was regarding me but did not know how he knew what he knew. I stood there resisting the urge to raise my hand or step forward. After all, I did not believe in this "stuff". Two times he said the same thing and, after the second time, I said in my mind, "Lord, if he says that again, I am walking up there." That was all God needed to hear. He spared me the opportunity to not do as I said as He showed this preacher that I was the one he was speaking of. The preacher walked over to me and said simply, "You are seeking after God." I could only nod my head and step forward as he took my hand and ministered Jesus to me. I walked out of that church that night a brand new creation in Christ. It was a change that everybody at work saw. To me, it was the most amazing thing that had ever happened.... and it was unexplainable.

I returned home that next morning after work, eager to tell my husband all that had happened. He was agreeable but not overwhelmingly happy. I could not understand that. I was in heaven. This was the beginning of the end.

From that very first day, I never missed a service. I went to every regular and not so regular service. There was not one Sunday, Wednesday, or revival day that I missed. Jesus in me was faithful, something that I had never been. No matter what happened throughout the week, it was always worked out by church day. I was so happy to finally have what I had seen in my first husband. I could not get enough of the word and just could not seem to worship enough. I was always hungry for more.

Not long after I was born again, I requested of my husband to quit my job to stay home with my youngest child. He granted me permission. I enjoyed being at home. My children had suffered while I worked nights and slept all day. They never saw me and were beginning to want to stay with grandma all the time. My heart was broken. Something had to be done. Since I still had a child at home while the other two were in school, I decided to just stay home. It was wonderful to just be there each day for them.

I spent a lot of time turning my unbelieving husband over to God and God was honoring that. More than anything, I wanted a Godly family. For a while, he seemed interested but interest waned as time went by. I could not understand why he refused the one thing that he needed most. We were going through a lot of financial things, but God was supplying the need. We did not suffer lack. I had been sitting under the preaching of the gospel for almost three years and faith was just something I functioned in naturally. I was beginning to grow spiritually and my desires were changing. I wanted the fulfillment of God's purpose in my life in every area. I wanted nothing less than that.

During the five years I was married to my second husband, my children would ask me questions like, "When are you and dad going to get back together?" or "Why won't you marry dad again?" I passed these questions off, sometimes with much hostility, because I just did not want the past brought into the present again. He had lied to me and that was a grave mistake in my house. I had no desire to be with him again and repeatedly answered their questions with, "I won't ever marry that man again." I still had much to learn. I was still trying to fit pieces from other boxes into this puzzle and was overlooking the one piece that did fit. The picture was marred and did not make sense. This was something I could not do. I needed to get my hand out of the box and out of the picture. I also needed to learn how to eat my own words.

In December of 1999, my second husband left me. I was not shocked though it left me surprised that he actually did it. I had thought he would never leave. The basis for his leaving had to do with more than the reason he gave, but I accepted it as the Lord took me to 1 Corinthians 7:15 and called me to peace. Little did I know that this was the beginning.

On that Thursday morning, I awoke with a memory of something John had done while we were still married. I had gone to town to pick up something and, when I returned, the lights were dimmed, candles were lit, and soft music was playing in the background. My husband met me in the center of the living room floor and we danced. I remember thinking about how much that had meant to me then but, over the course of time, I had forgotten it. That morning it was as fresh in my mind as if it had happened just the day before. I pondered the reason for this memory while I laid there crying softly. The only words I spoke to God were, "I just want to be cherished like that again." That night, my second husband walked out on me and, for all intents and purposes, it seemed like my prayer that morning would not be answered. Though I cried as he left, there was an enormous sense of peace inside of me that I could not explain. I knew God had heard my prayer. He would answer.

Four months have passed since that night. Right after that, the Lord began to turn my heart back toward my first husband, the man He had purposed for me. I was very surprised at first, but then began to see with the vision God had for us... that completed puzzle in His heart before time began. In His eyes, John and I were still married. He had never seen it any other way. He had joined us together and no man could put that asunder.

As I began to pray that His will be done in my life in all things, God began to show me what His will was. He willed us to be a family once again. Already He had finished the work, now all that was left was for the pieces to be orchestrated into place by His hand. By faith, after seeing with God's vision, I sent an e-mail to John asking him to pray about attending church with us as a family on Easter Sunday. He accepted and came to both services. He was supposed to have worked that night, but God had already taken care of that. Someone took his place so that he could be with us. It was the most amazing thing that has happened to me since the night I was born again.

We talked for some time that evening after church as I spilled my heart to him, communicating with him in a way that I never had. We fell in love all over again that day as brand new creations in Christ. We are not the couple we used to be... we are brand new. This time Jesus is the center of our marriage, not ourselves. The piece of the puzzle that was missing the first time we married was Jesus as the center piece. The piece that was missing once Jesus found me was John. Now he has been placed back into the puzzle... the piece that I had cast away because I did not think it fit in my perfect picture... the piece I overlooked... the piece only God could have shown me. I have everything I had asked for and more. What was once a bunch of scrambled pieces is now a masterpiece of His finished work... and it is a picture that dreams are made of.

Linda Matthews
May 3, 2000

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