Wednesday, July 8th, 2009
We are surely weavers.
We spend such a long time weaving, every day. We are so careful to try to weave all the right intentions into one another. We try to bring in all the colors of our hearts and place each stitch just perfectly. When we find an imperfection we go back to repair it, or struggle to make peace that it somehow belongs in the overall picture we are creating. If it becomes a hole we may, one day, eyes blurring and so tired of the heart’s labor, pull all our hard work apart and start again.
And then there come the days when we realize we are also being woven. We surrender and become the many threads and allow their dance to overtake us, and be perfect, always and somehow, just as it is. We stand back to look at the bigger picture being created, and we may still hold that image in our hearts, but we let go…once and for all…and trust that it will turn out just as it is meant to.
We sometimes wonder later, in these situations, if we gave up and should not have. When the picture turns out dark and not like something we would have wanted to create, we think about the role we could or should have played. We doubt the perfection and presume it was our own failing that brought it upon us.
And just when we are despairing the most deeply, we find that the colors have begun to return…the tide finally turns when we had given up hope that it ever could. And that’s when we see it…the golden strand that begins to show more clearly again. And we fill with lightheartedness and joy as we follow it back and find that it runs behind through all the muddied patterns that have already passed.
It is the thread of love. And when we have crossed the dark waters yet again, we will always find that it was with us through it all.
We never forsook ourselves or were unguided or unsupported by love. For love is ever medicine. Sometimes it will taste bitter while it works a poison out of us, but when the poison is gone we will feel so deeply freed, and we will know the reason for the bitterness. We will know we were never alone. Love just has to break us open to set us free. Love itself has to break our hearts…with love. It has to be as acrid and as merciless as the wound that binds us, so that it can champion us truly. Love is devoted to us and would never betray us. For we are love.
When you think that nothing could ever redeem what you have been through, or the paths in the underworld that you have traveled…know that love is waiting. It never makes mistakes. It always has a greater gift than you can imagine…if you can just wait beyond the point you once thought was your limit of endurance. Then, just when you are afraid you don’t even recognize yourself anymore…you are reborn, and your love is greater than you had ever known it could be.
Love will make you naked, but it always has a soft, warm blanket waiting after you have plunged unprotected into the coldest pools of your fears. You will be caught, even if you have already hit bottom. You will be surprised by being given the Sun, when you long before thought all was lost. Your face will be lifted when you have decided it was only made to wear tears and be hidden, and you will be shown the flowering of your heart, and its many, many lovers…
When times have become hard or your heart heavy and your body weary, look among the grey designs for that illusive glimmer…just wait and hope and pray…it will always surface. Love.
In Love and Faith, Jennifer
