Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Weary Ones: He Sees You. And He's Weaving.

Wednesday is half-gone, and I'm only now posting Wednesday's blog. It's a threadbare day. And I'm rejoicing in that. Here's why...

This post was originally going to be called “Patchwork Summer” and talk all about the little pockets of peace God has given along the way and stitched together to wrap me in. I was going to tell you all about how we’re in a season where conventional summer getaways and such haven’t been feasible, but how God’s allowed us to snatch moments together wherever we could, rest up, and live thankful for those moments rather than pining for the different sorts of rest that eluded us.

That’s what it WAS going to be about. But it’s turning into something different right before my eyes as I clack these keys and blink back at the cursor on my screen.

So here you go...

 Summer is done.

This summer, more than any other, vanished before my eyes.

Keep in mind as you read the following that it all rode on an undercurrent of gratefulness for all that has transpired. I don’t want to lose sight of the miracle we are living in as I reflect on my state during it all.

I look at my summer-self from this vantage point, and I see someone threadbare in energy, staring at a scale in bewilderment: mounting to-do lists sinking, sinking, sinking on one side, dwindling energy supply rising, rising to the sky on the other. Summer-self sat and surveyed all that had to be done—realized some things don’t really have to be done—began to accept a new, temporal, less-than-orderly normal as we navigated a time of transition.

And now, from where I sit, I look back and I see: our summer was not hodge-podge, haphazard or piecemeal. It’s not even a beautiful patchwork, like I originally thought and set out to write about today.

 Stitched by the Master’s hand, yes. Fragments woven together to make something whole, yes. But something so complete, so uniform in its threads of grace and sustenance and provision… something feather-light, just right.

It’s this:


Turned into this:

And this:


Me, threadbare. Him, weaving those stringy strands together to make something complete, whole, intentional… something that couldn’t be made without those stringy strands.

 In my moments of weariness, I’ve seen only the stringy strands.

But they were in His hands.

And because there was so little of my “own” strength left, the light that slips through-- I know it is Him. Purely Him.

Strength Luminous. Oh, what a thing it is to draw from such!

To those who are weary, from one threadbare traveler to another let me say: He sees you. He is weaving. He is cloaking you with a garment so feather-light and lovely on your road… and you’re not alone in it. Not even for even a second.

 "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9




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