THE FABRIC OF MY LIFE

Yesterday morning, before beginning my latest project, I stood for just a moment in the middle of my little studio and looked around. My eyes struggled for a second or two trying to focus on the enormous array of textiles neatly stacked upon the narrow shelves that climbed ceiling high. Yards and yards of gently loved fabrics stared back at me. Intricately woven cottons, silks and linens served up in a rainbow of colors waiting patiently for a chance to change.

I moved hurriedly from row to row, carefully adjusting the fabrics. Boxes of old buttons, tiny appliqués and shiny embellishments seemed optimistic that today might be their chosen day as well. I smiled as I ran my hands over the beautiful trims and lacey edgings before me. They were all so skillfully made, and from the very beginning of our introduction I had loved each and every treasured find.

I removed several pieces of my favorite pink rose cottons from the shelf, grabbed my sharpest scissors and began to cut and sew. I worked for over an hour, eagerly adding little bits of fancy as I stitched, tossing aside what ultimately wasn’t needed. With care, I began to turn the inside to the out. A newly created Heart Sachet was nearing completion!

Tufts of fiber filing, not more than a palm full, were gently placed inside. After adding a hint of French Lavender and a few final touches, I quickly stitched the right side closed.

I gulped down the last of my coffee and sat quietly for a minute or two checking for any imperfections in my work. Fashioned together by a willing hand, the fabric, lace, ribbon and buttons had become something beautiful. What had once been a sampling of pretty old finds was newly transformed into something of even greater value.

My life, I suppose, is not unlike the fabric and decorative treasures that sit within my studio walls. Unless I’m willing to allow Him, the Designer, to use the scraps of my life, the pocketsize pieces which are often overlooked or deemed undeserving, I will never become what He envisioned. I need the kindness of His faithful, merciful hands and the strength of His unfailing love to knit together all of what He believes I will someday be.

“This means allowing the often painful task of cutting, trimming and discarding what isn’t needed~ doesn’t it Lord?” I knew it did.