The Threads That Make Up Your Tapestry

Beautiful art – especially religious art – speaks to us on many levels and in many layers. In late medieval Europe, tapestry became a popular art form to create beautiful stories on expensive fabric, easily transported for display.

Some of the most famous tapestries from that time, The Acts of The Apostles, were commissioned by Pope Leo X and designed by Raphael to tell the stories of Sts. Peter and Paul as recounted in Scripture. Although tapestry is not as common today as an art form, the process itself has much to teach us, as I learned from an article I read online.

The author, Tim Challies, points out that although the front of a tapestry is a work of art, the back is a different story. The back is quite a mess, made by weaving together different colored threads to create something stunning on the front. 

The point is this: In our lives, we often get caught up in the mess we are making. We get caught up in the threads, in the back of the tapestry, not understanding that God has His hand in all of it and is creating something beautiful with our many threads and unruly mess.

In fact, amid that “mess” are threads we may think are insignificant. For instance, staying up late with a sick child; visiting a lonely friend; cooking a meal for a new mom and her family; or even letting someone in front of you at the grocery store. These things, done with great love, are like a golden thread shot through the tapestry of our lives.

And then there are the significant threads – the unbridled joy and the unquenchable grief, the times that take our breath away. Those threads, too, will shine on the other side of this work of art.

One day, we will see the tapestry God has woven out of the threads of our lives, and we will rejoice in His handiwork.

The blog post I read ended with this poem by Corrie Ten Boom, “Life is but a Weaving”:

My life is but a weaving

Between my God and me.

I cannot choose the colors

He weaveth steadily.

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;

And I in foolish pride

Forget He sees the upper

And I the underside.

Not ’til the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly

Will God unroll the canvas

And reveal the reason why.

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

He knows, He loves, He cares;

Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those

Who leave the choice to Him.