An unexpected package mysteriously appeared at my door. It came in the mail, and it was a complete surprise. When I opened it, my heart was profoundly filled. In the package, was a book about slow stitching. Now that probably doesn’t sound like a big deal to you, but it was for me. I had been thinking about slow stitching as something new to try. A practice to help me slow down and use my creativity, too. I told no one about this desire. Yet, the book appeared and when I read who it was from, I wasn’t surprised. A dear friend, who lives across the country sent the book to me. She said something inside of her knew that I needed to have this book. I don’t talk to her very often, but I know we think about each other. Somehow, she seems to have a sixth sense about things, and she had a sense about this book and a sense about me. She didn’t know that I had thoughts about stitching, but God did. And when I saw the book, I was speechless. In my spirit, I was overwhelmed. I don’t think I am really expressing my feelings properly. But, receiving that book made me know, truly know that God “sees” me. It seems this is a continuous longing and simple desire for me. To be seen. We all want to be seen, don’t we? I don't quite know why I wanted to pick up a needle and thread to begin this practice. I do know I was taken back in time when I was a little girl and first learned to sew. I was given a scrap of soft, buttery yellow fabric, a needle, and a spool of thread. I remember it well. I decided to make a pillow for my grandmother and so I stitched away. I was so proud of my creation! It was very crude in its construction, but it didn’t matter to my grandmother. She beamed when I gave it to her, and the sparkle in her eyes said it all. I can still see that sparkle. It came so naturally to her, to simply love me. She was one of the most special people in my life who saw me and poured unconditional love into my little spirit. I doubt she knew the impact she had on me. I’ve been cherishing my slow stitch book and have flipped through its pages numerous times since it arrived. It’s given me ideas and courage to just go for it and try stitching. During a recent flip through the book, I happened to look at a page that talked about stitching supplies. Spools of thread were arranged beautifully on the page. I had passed over that page several times, but this time I stopped to take a closer look. Unexpectedly, pausing to pay closer attention to those spools, my eyes started welling up with tears. The images of the spools of thread made me keenly aware of the sadness in my heart with my relationship with my father, who happens to be a tailor. When he worked full-time at his craft, his workspace at home was full of beautiful wooden spools of silky thread, just like in the book. My heart simply connected all of this and just like that, the tears came. In that moment, I saw an illustration of my life. I saw a runaway spool of thread. That’s what my life feels like right now. As though it's a spool of thread running away from me and all I want to do is to catch it. To catch the loose thread so that it doesn’t unravel too much. I want to catch it so that I can wind it neatly and tuck the loose strand in its place, keeping it secure and safe. But as I chase the thread, it seems impossible to catch as it follows its own path. Have you ever dropped a spool of thread? It seems to escape the spool easily, rolling quickly with no regard for the frantic chase. As I see the unraveled thread, the thread that has escaped, I wonder if there is a reason for it to be beyond my grasp. I wonder why I keep chasing the spool. All this pointed me to my father. My relationship with him has not been easy. A very long time ago, it was easy and good, but then something changed. As I looked at the picture of the spools, the tears continued to spill. The life I have had with my father has been one of unraveling and chasing. Throughout my life, I kept the thread secure so that there wasn’t a chance for real pain and anger to be seen. Yet, I felt it every day and every day I kept everything tucked in, like a neatly wound spool of thread. I truly want to love my dad. I do. But what I mean, is to love him without the wrestling match in my heart. Slowly, I am learning to do this. In wanting this, I see I need to let the thread unravel. And I think I have been doing that, by letting go. By not chasing. My book displayed a simple illustration, but it really was more than just a picture of spools of thread. For me, the spool is the hand of God who says no matter how unraveled your life gets, I am at the center. I have you. I will gather you up.
You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle.
Are they not in Your book? Psalm 58:6
My beautiful friend had no idea that the book had more meaning to it than what she originally intended. God had much more in mind for me.
I might have been about six or seven when I sewed the pillow for my grandmother. Later, as a young adult, I remember visiting her when she lived in her little one bedroom apartment. She was in her golden years now, and as I peeked into her bedroom I noticed something familiar. It was the pillow I made for her when I was a little girl. She had kept it all those years. It was a beautiful moment for me. I was always seen by her. I was always loved. Of course, my heart knew this because she made it easy for me to know it. I was still her beloved.
Henri Nouwen says, “The Gospel calls us continually to make Christ the source, the center, and the purpose of our lives. In him we find our home. In the safety of that place, our sadnesses can point us to God, even drive us into God’s loving embrace. Here, mourning our losses ultimately lets us claim our belovedness.
The unraveling of my life hasn’t been fun or easy, but it’s been a good thing. The runaway, scattered parts of my life have been held together all along by God. I’ve not been alone or forgotten. But, in my humanity I haven't always remembered this, and it has caused somewhat of a sadness in my heart at times.
We are all strands of loose threads, trying to make sense of the unraveling. Trying desperately to chase the runaway spool. The thing we think is our security and our safety offers an elusive chase. All along, it is only God who makes sense of the unraveling. He offers this freely through his loving compassion and grace, helping us make sense of the tangled threads. When we stop chasing, when we rest in His presence, we receive.
For now, I pause resting in the truth that God knows everything about me and my life. This is true for you as well. I am okay with the unraveling because the truth of my life is that He is my safe place, as He is yours.
Isaiah 55:9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
John 16:30
…You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.
Psalm 16
Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the LORD, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.” I say of the holy people who are in the land, “They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.” Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more. I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods or take up their names on my lips. LORD, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I keep my eyes always on the LORD. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead, nor will you let your faithful[b] one see decay. You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.
My father's spools of thread. | 
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