The Underside of a Tapestry6:00 AM
I've had a rough few
days weeks months. Let's be honest here, friends. From eating a jar of Nutella to watching my weight go up and down like a yo-yo, something's gotta give.
2013 was supposed to be our year. That's what we kept saying. It was the year things were going to change. The year things were going to happen. The year we were finally going to start living.
And yet this year has come, and we are more than halfway through it... and still my little family is "stuck" in this ridiculous thing we call life-on-earth.
Everyone keeps telling me God has a plan. In my heart of hearts I keep saying my favorite verse over, and over, and over again:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11.
Yet these words have lost their comfort. It's like I wrote it on a chalkboard one hundred times, but when I went to continue writing it my arm rubbed against the chalk. The words are smeared, no longer as clearly in front of my face as when I was writing them... and I lost track. I started to look at other things around me, because the chalk was washing away.
So I did what I knew I needed to do. I brought my problems to the closest Christian women I have in my life right now. The ones I can physically sit down with, let them take my hands in theirs... and pray. I needed physical prayer. I needed someone else lifting up the words that were in my heart that I didn't want to bring to God. Because like so many other times in my life, I was turning away from Him. I knew He could help me, and I felt so selfish because I thought He was ignoring me.
Haven't I been praying the same prayer over and over again, Father? It's been over two years now since I brought this to you. Aren't you listening?
I thought I was praying with the faith to move mountains. I thought I was praying big dreams, big things that were God-sized and only He could handle. Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?
These women prayed for me, with me, beside me. We gave God praise and love, and asked for the things that were in all of our hearts.
But to me... it still didn't feel like it was enough. Somehow the fellowship with these women was leaving me more angry than relieved. How come they get all these wondrous joys in their lives and I don't? Things that I want, and they receive. Could it be because they are all at least six years older than me?
I was trying to find the reason. And in my moments of selfishness I forgot that a few of them had problems that probably overshadowed mine in the scheme of things. In my selfishness I forgot that they had daily struggles just as I do.
Because I was being selfish.
I stayed at the hostess's house a little longer than everyone else, and we talked troubles. Hers and my own. We shared our thoughts, and she shared her wisdom with me. All I can tell you friends, is that this woman is one who so clearly reflects the light of God I wish I could keep her in my pocket all the time. I am so thankful she has become one of my closest sisters in Christ.
So when I started talking, and when I felt like I was about to cry, she took my hands in hers and said, "Let me pray for you."
Her words moved me more than she could possibly know. In that moment, I truly felt God. She said something like this.
"It's like we are looking at the underside of a tapestry, Father, and we can't see the beautiful picture you are creating above. It's like You are weaving a glorious masterpiece, and we are just waiting for You to tell us to look up so we can see what You see. We trust in You, Father. We trust that You have this amazing plan and hope that You will choose to reveal it to Emily soon, Lord, because she could just use Your presence and wisdom. We trust in what You are making, and what You sew, and ask that soon You will just let Emily look up so she may see what wonders You have prepared for her, and for Clark, and for their family."
When I got in the car to drive home, I was sobbing. I prayed her words over, and over, and over again. Unlike the chalk that had been rubbing off the chalk board, they were being engraved on my heart again, and again, and again.
I felt redeemed. Like my chains had been broken off all over again. And I'm no longer worried. Because I know God will let me look up when the timing is right.