“Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.”
— Walt Whitman
It’s really early. Unbelievably so for someone who gets up anywhere between 9am and noon, depending on the previous night’s slumber (or the lack thereof). So 3:18am when I finally accepted that sleep isn’t in my immediate future. I don’t know why it took me so long. 1:11, 2:36 and now at 3:18, I find myself making those first few scratchy notes which will become wordy and super lengthy. All of my saved grammar tabs are open so maybe my commas, tenses and run on sentences are kept to an inoffensive minimum. And hopefully this becomes a meaningful blog entry that reaches someone on some level, somewhere. Good morning sunshine.
As per the norm, I’ve been working on this entry for about a week. Planning it in my head. Jotting down sparkling bits of wisdom and humor. Chuckling a little because I’m oh so clever. The content is running over but where is my starting point? What is my opening? Then it hit me. I need to write about the outline. Not write the outline.. write about the outline. The black parts surrounding all of the beautiful color in my life.
We all have them. I think we all avoid them or at the very least, we dread them. Sadness. Grief. Pain. Disappointment. Loss. Rejection. Regret. Loneliness. Did I miss any? The things that hurt so much, we question why. Those black times in life that block out the sun.. those are the black threads. I’ve spent my whole life running from them. Momma used to say that one day I would learn to confront. And she was right.. as momma’s tend to be. I have finally learned to stand. And every time I face a new giant, I add black threads to my tapestry.
What does Jesus say about the painful things? Where is He when we’re in crisis? Is He upset with me when I’m thrown into the middle of a war that I didn’t start, ask for or expect? Like any child who doesn’t want to be reprimanded, I’ve tried to not pray much about anything negative. I’ve just kind of scooted over it, focusing on being grateful for the many good things I have and praying for others. But it was still there. Wiggling that crooked little finger at me, like an annoying younger sibling, about to tattle if I didn’t hurry up and do it myself. So I did.
I told Jesus everything.. all about this ugly, horrible, painful battle I’ve been handed. The one He’s been watching from day one. The one He knew was coming. The one He prepared me for, I just didn’t know it. When I bowed and asked for His direction, ready to accept defeat and walk away, the answer I got wasn’t what I expected. Not by a long shot. I was ready to cut and run. He very clearly told me to stand and confront. I’m pretty sure my momma danced a jig when He did so. The rebel in me may have danced a step or two, too.
Nowhere in my bible does God tell me to always fold. Nowhere in my bible does God tell me to run from devils, demons or any other evil I face. Just the opposite. He tells me that He’s beside me, behind me and He’s holding me in the palm of His hand. No weapon on this earth can hurt me. That’s when I honestly realized I had already won the war. The final outcome is exactly the same for me, whether I run or whether I fight. But the casualties on the other side.. catastrophic for my enemies. And these are my black threads. These deeply dark, sometimes scary battles I’m fighting.. I embrace them with all of my heart and soul. They are God moving in my life. Bring on the black threads.
Losing mom. Four weeks later, losing dad. Ten months later, losing David. And now, losing this place he and I called home for fourteen years. I can’t even describe to you how much I thought I hate this time..this bleak winter I’m in. I’ve wanted to run, far and fast. I’m not sure the exact moment I realized that this is not just another winter.. it’s my most important hour. My most beautiful. My strongest. My blackest. This is my outline. When I stopped whining and telling God how wrong this is, He showed me the tapestry He’s been weaving out of my life. He showed me all of my colors, so breathtaking. He showed me my patterns, so intricately beautiful. Every twist and turn, filled with love, laughter & miracles. Every road in my life, perfect in its own imperfect way, is bound by beautiful black threads. Outlined one stitch at a time, by God’s own hand.
Wherever you are. Whatever your battle.. He’s got you. He’s working right now in your life, outlining your tapestry with strength and filling in your roads with color. Just take a breath and know the darkness of your today highlights the blinding beauty of your tomorrow. Believe that.
I wish you black threads, my friend. Beautiful, glorious, unbreakable black threads.
* Weavers Way * day 2 * cliff notes * sometimes I think God and I are in different time zones * when healing comes from courage, courage comes from Jesus * my momma is dancing a jig in heaven * daddy had two left feet but he’s dancing too * my heart is dancing with them * Jesus made me wordy instead of math-y * and also He turned these scraps of me into something usable for Him * this is my moment .. watch me shine *
Colorful Chaos 