If I could say with words what colors and textures depict, then I suppose there would be no need to stitch with fabrics and threads. They are a language of their own, speaking to each of us in similar and yet separate ways. Blues and greens often harken to us of ocean and sky, rest and renewal. I certainly felt this as I joined together the layers of cloth using hyphens and dashes, knots, and blanket stitch.
Ordinary and ancient, these stitches are something like heiroglyphics, telling a story all their own. I am surely the one working the needle, tilling the soil, planting seeds. But the harvest is its own thing, and I’m only here to listen as the crop comes in. Beauty and grace…it swirls around me as I draw thread through the joined layers. It tells me of blessing, despite the fraying of days.
It rains down
like manna from heaven
amidst the tilt and tumult
of frayed and fractured places.
We work daily
to join things together
all the while
more falls apart.
and we feel its strengthening grace
from Him who is able.
I’m grateful for this stitching practice through February. I’m already dreaming of going on into March, into Lent and through to Easter. Perhaps I’ll take my needle and thread on a long lenten walk to listen to the benediction that has been spoken over my life. We shall see. I want to stay in this for February, just here and now. Then I’ll let March show me what it has for me then.
*The last line of the poem hints at the benediction in Jude 1:24: “Now to Him who is able to keep you, Who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory, blameless, with great joy!”