Life Tightly Woven

          Throughout the course of my graduate education in spirituality I have had to examine my life from various perspectives. For example, last semester I had to create a tapestry of my life, and similarly this semester we were asked to reflect upon and tell the story of our lives.  Last week one of my texts stated that “life is fragile and can fall apart at the seams at any moment.” Believe me there are days when I’m certain those very words came out of my own mouth.  I sometimes cannot believe the twists and turns of life, and lately it seems to be unraveling at the speed of sound.  But my life is more than a fragile piece of porcelain dangling on a ledge that can shatter into a million pieces with the slightest nudge in any given direction.

          The tapestry analogy gives me great hope.  When I was a little girl I had one of those toy weaving looms that came with a plastic bag filled with colorful bands of yarn, a wooden needle, and other tools that aided in pushing and pulling the yarn deliberately into place on the loom.  I enjoyed the tedious and intricate work of choosing a particular pattern first, then selecting the colors of yarn, setting them on the loom one piece at a time, and weaving each piece over and under the other threads until I reached the other side of the loom.  This process was carefully repeated until the project was complete, and voila, I had created either a pot holder or a scarf or some other such item.  Whatever the finished product, it was sturdy, tightly woven, and it would not come apart unless it was intentionally unwoven.  More importantly it could not come apart while it was being woven because it was on the loom in the weaving process.

          I’ve got to believe that my life’s tapestry undergoes a similar process by the Divine Weaver.  I can’t really say that it can “come apart at the seams at any moment” because it’s still on the loom, and it will remain there until my life is over.  The twists and turns that make me feel as if life is fragile and falling apart are simply new pieces of yarn that are being interwoven with the other yarn.  It’s a tedious process, and I will not be able to see the end result in my lifetime because the tapestry of my life is in the weaving process that is life.  As long as I am alive, the weaving will continue.  My faith tells me to trust the weaver.  He’s quite skillful.

T

he Divine Weaver

Author Unknown

My life is but a weaving

Between my Lord and me;

I cannot choose the colors

He weaves so steadily.

Often He weaves in sorrow

But I in foolish pride

Forget He sees the upper

And I, the lower side.

But the dark threads are as needful

In the weaver's skillful hand

As the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

Not till the loom is silent

And the bobbins cease to fly,

Shall He unroll the canvas

And explain the reason why.

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