The Tapestry
The Tapestry
There it hung, the centerpiece in a gallery of strange articles, all cast in shades of gray. For some reason, this one piece stands out. Here before me is a long slender cloth like object, hung on an elegant bronze frame. Shining silver threads begin to glitter as the folds of this tapestry move in sequence with a soft gentle wind. The sight of such a beautiful creation strikes my soul with a sense of awe and wonder. I am mesmerized as my gaze breaks only by an occasional blink. The colors seemingly dance in my mind…
Hues of blue and green convey the feelings of calm and inner peace. Swirls of purple portray a sense of majesty and royalty. Brown reminds me of the earth itself, the frailty of mankind, and the symbol of our origin, and our inevitable destination. Around the edges I see the occasional splash of red, perhaps to tell the story of a great price that was paid when this work was created, or possibly the intensity of the Master’s passion. The fury of the sun’s brilliant glory prominently shows in the bright yellow center. Black, the one color I expect to see, is barely visible.
I look even closer at the texture to find threads of various lengths, colors, and thicknesses, as skillfully they weave a myriad of mismatched materials into a single flowing piece. With the use of such strange materials, I cannot help but wonder what kind of craftsman would this be to use such common things? As I follow the pattern of the weave, I notice the word “Remember” skillfully inked on one corner. As my gaze narrows, I can also make out the faint appearance of other letters…the words clearly say, “Remember, (PUT YOUR NAME HERE).
I close my eyes as I strain to make sense of this, taken aback by the sight of my name being written on something so beautiful. I eventually realize that this tapestry is my life…or rather, a picturesque representation of what my life is meant to be. This single work of art combines the most unlikely of materials into a truly beautiful creation. Tiny silken threads interwoven with other course materials such as burlap and straw remind me that the skill of the Master to use such common elements so effectively speaks to the wisdom that obviously willed my life into existence. I am a human being; created to be…by the passion of the Master, and for his good pleasure – something so common that has become something so beautiful.
It is then that my eyes slowly drift to one of the gray tinted objects next to me. This one has a name I recognize. The word “shame” is embossed in plain simple letters on several parts of the object. I look even closer and see that the same common elements that make up my life are also used in this piece, except this object is solid black, the weave is different, and the edges are frayed. Looking only for a moment causes my heart to grieve at the darkness and death that is clearly conveyed by such a strange creation. But what can I do? I am a delicate design of finite understanding and ability, wrapped in a tiny shriveled envelope called time. I can only receive the life that has been given to me, as I rent each breath throughout my short existence on this earth. How then can I impart anything of value to something that is clearly broken beyond my ability to repair? A long silence passes – my mind simply cannot respond to such a deep-seated question.
As I turn to leave, I notice a smooth flat stone at my feet…how or where it came from I do not know. It has the word, “Love” skillfully penned in the same black lettering. With my curiosity peaked, I stoop down to pick it up, and notice that a ray of light has shown brightly on a new path just ahead. And so, taking a deep breath, I gaze one more time at the crystalline image of my life through teary eyes, as I remember what the Master has made me to be. I am overcome by a wave of thankfulness as I press ahead with a new found love in my hand, and the ever present memory of how much worth has been placed upon me. I carry His love to those that I will meet along the way…to those that have yet to discover the beauty of the Master’s handy work.