As a young girl, I loved to do embroidery and cross-stitch. There was something  exhilarating about creating a design from thin pieces of string, a needle, and material.  To this day, though I rarely do any sort of crafting myself, I find myself drawn to the beauty of art created by thread.  The details a true artist can make come alive and the stories that can be told through this exquisite art form are mesmerizing.

Now, here is something I’ve been thinking on lately … when I look upon a tapestry and observe the picture or story being presented, I always notice the use of color and I usually notice the various stitching utilized.  But I never pay particular attention to any one thread or string used.  The story and the beauty of the piece will cause me to search for details about the creator and ponder the skill they possess.  But never do I ponder or seek information about one particular piece of thread that is used in the overall design.

I have yet to point to an individual thread and say, “Wow! That piece of thread is amazing!  Look how it sewed itself into the material!”

No, I will look at the tapestry and say, “The creator of this piece must possess exceptional skill to create such beauty with simple pieces of thread.”

I believe I can say with confidence that neither does a single thread draw attention to itself nor claim the glory for the masterpiece.

The creator receives the glory … not the thread.

Without the artist, the thread can do nothing.

 

 

When my first born began to exhibit significant developmental delays many years ago and received the diagnosis of autism, I prayed constantly for his healing.  I sang praise songs, I spoke verses over him, and I was convinced that I knew the will of God for him.  We certainly were not to be ‘held back’ with the diagnosis of severe autism and I could not see how anything less than a full healing could possibly be the will of God.

Over the years, the severity of his autism continued to grow and significantly impact not only his life, but my own and the rest of our family.  Despite all I tried to do to ‘fix’ his symptoms, little progress was made and the journey grew incredibly hard and isolating.  Family and friends could not relate or understand this reality and I began to hide as I grew discouraged and overwhelmed with a sense of failure.

“Did I not have enough faith?”
“Did I not do enough?”
“Is the severity and impact of my son’s diagnosis all my fault?”

I truly believed it was.

It was when I reached the very end of trying to weave my own version of our story that the Lord picked up the threads.

“My life is but a weaving between my God and me. 
I cannot choose the colors, He weaveth constantly.

‘Oft times He weaveth sorrow; And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.”

 

The journey since then has been considerably different.  The Lord has often done what I could not.  He has opened doors that were formerly closed, however, He has also allowed others to remain closed.  My son is not ‘healed’ of  autism and yet, he has grown.  The Lord has walked me personally through many steps of spiritual maturity and growth and, as a result, He has allowed me the privilege to teach those same lessons to my children.  Not because He cured my son of autism … but because He is working through my son and his autism.  The difficulties, the hard parts, the dependence on One greater than ourselves … these are the very things that cause us to grow, to change, to look continually towards the Savior.

Often, given the nature of my life and the lack of impact I feel I have in my church and community, I feel insignificant.  I feel like I haven’t done enough … or that I am not good enough.  I believe the story and testimony of another must be of more value than my own.

However, I’ve come to view life as a series of threads that God is weaving into a masterpiece tapestry that He has been crafting since Genesis 1:1.  The thread of one is not greater or of more value than another.  Rather, each become intricately linked together as the Father weaves a story that, for now, we can only partially see.

Remembering that the one to receives the glory is not the single thread, but the Creator of the tapestry.

For the thread, without Him, can do nothing.

Not ’til the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas and reveal the reasons 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.

 

My son woke early one morning this week, upset and out of sorts.  I startled awake and quickly clambered out of bed, wrenching the very knee I just had surgery on.  I limped about, feeling a bit discouraged as I pondered the reality of this life.  But as I helped my son get ready for his day, I began singing softly to myself, without much thought of the song that left my lips.

There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus

To break every chain
Break every chain
Break every chain

Suddenly my son locked his eyes on mine and my mostly non-verbal son said one word… ‘Swing.’ 

Everything stopped in that moment as the significance of that one word rolled over me.

One year ago I sat outside on our porch swing with my son as we waited for electricity to be restored after a storm.  I remember it was such a difficult time as I sang those very words to my son just before the Lord led me to present the gospel and his need of a Savior.

One year ago, I sat on the swing and led my son to Jesus.

The memory of that unbelievable moment still fills me with wonder because at one time, it seemed an impossibility.

As I recollected this, our eyes remained locked together as I said, “Yes, you remember that I sang that song to you as we sat on the swing and that was when you asked Jesus into your heart.  You remember that?”

His eyes remained on mine … and he smiled.

 

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.
(The Tapestry Poem by Corrie ten Boom)

 

You know, I don’t know how different our lives might be had God answered my prayers the way I wanted Him to many years ago.  But this journey has taught me that my story is not mine alone.  The thread of my life is not mine alone to determine the course.  When left in the hand of the Father, the thread learns to actively follow where it is led and in His hands, I have found, is no better place to be.

Some day, we will get to hear the story in its entirety and see the tapestry complete … and then we’ll understand.

For now, I am content to trust Him and follow where He leads.

A single thread in the greatest tapestry of all.