Tapestry of Life

I was going to go to FoodNetwork and look at broccoli recipes since I have lots of broccoli from our farm share to use, and I got sidetracked ... I was remembering a tapestry poem I read years ago, that I probably have filed away, but I've not organized my files yet since I've moved everything around. I ended up Googling "tapestry poem" instead.

I also downloaded the pictures off my camera from a recent felting picture I did and hung at church last night. So I'll post the picture's stages: from the layering colors of sheep wool which I cover and pour hot soapy water over and agitate, to felt ... to the finished framed picture.

Here's the Tapestry poem I was remembering. Apparently Corrie Ten Boom (my Grandmother got to talk to her - and in Dutch!) used to say this poem as she spoke around the world. (And why am I thinking of tapestry? Cuz that's the textile art I'm returning to, having sold my large weaving loom and found the tapestry loom I want posted on Craigslist on Thanksgiving Day.)

My life is but a weaving between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors; He works so steadily.
Oft times He weaves in sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper, and me the underside.
Not till the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful in the weavers skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

The poem was read at my weaving mentor's funeral after her sudden death when scuba-diving (she was in her 80's) on vacation with her husband. One story told of her: during the war (and she continued for other needs too) she'd unravel knit things and reknit sweaters and socks.

And another poem I found when searching by a Debbie Milam -
When we embrace the many parts of our experience we discover a magnificent creation.

Every moment is but a thread, a thread of consciousness embracing the very essence of life.

Some threads are brilliant and dazzling while others are tattered and torn.

When looked upon in isolation the tattered threads look inferior.

Yet when woven together by the wondrous hands of the creator the light magically blends with the dark.

As joy coalesces with pain God creates the magnificent tapestry that is life.

Monte came in from his office and just whipped up something for our supper using the broccoli! And is saying, "Time to eat".