Tapestry, traditionally woven by hand on a loom, dates back many centuries and is one of the world’s oldest forms of woven textile.
During the last quarter of the 11th century, a skilled weaver fashioned an elaborate table runner measuring 230 feet by 20 inches. Fashioned with colored wool on linen fabric, the artistry remains on display in a museum in Bayeux, France.
Tapestry is weft-faced weaving, in which all the warp threads are hidden in the completed work. It is relatively fragile, and difficult to make, so most historical pieces are intended to hang vertically on a wall.
Fronts of tapestries are indeed intricate, beautiful works of art. Consisting of many knots and loose threads, the back is a complete mess. You may be able to see an image, but the details are difficult to decipher.
The stitches, “weft” and “warp,” refer to the two sets of thread that are woven together to create the weave of the fabric. Weft, a filling thread, refers to the threads that run horizontally on the loom and get woven in front of and behind the warp. Warp refers to the threads that are strung vertically on the loom and tend to be the stronger.
Weaving is a process, and every thread is important to create a stunning piece of artistry.
Pondering the past, embracing the present, and considering the future, I compare my life to a tapestry.
There are many weft and warp threads that comprise an unfinished work of art.
Sometimes we think we have life all figured out and something knocks the breath out of us. Have you ever been there?
Dec. 30, 1988 — 14 months after my marriage — I had the breath knocked out of me. Andy, my youngest brother, was involved in a single motor-vehicle accident. Injuries sustained that night, which included a closed-head injury, left him void of all motor function, a quadriplegic. I am grateful he did not suffer cognitive impairment from the brain injury.
Void of all motor functions, even scratching an itch was a challenge. And, lack of verbal communication impacted the situation greatly. How I longed to hear his voice again.
Years into the ordeal, technology did provide a computer that was programmed to help Andy share his needs; physical, emotional and spiritual. He had just enough head movement to activate a proximity switch that provided a “voice” for communication.
Unprepared to navigate nearly 13 years of him being in a long-term care facility, I had no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and do what had to be done — persevere. I learned to trust and depend on God, who continually supplied me with strength to endure. Accepting one day at a time was necessary for moving forward.
In proportion to the discouragement and the sorrow, was (is) also the joy and hope that arose during the long, arduous days that often threatened to undo my well-being.
The biblical text of Psalm 91:1,2 provided care and comfort for Andy’s soul, for my soul. The words from the psalmist continually provide. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust (ESV).”
The weft and warp threads that were being woven together from that trial, were (still are) tangled, knotted, and difficult to decipher.
I firmly believe and trust that one day, the tapestry of my life will be turned over by the Master weaver, God, and the artistry intricately fashioned by His hands will be revealed.
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How meaningful!!!! Great job, as always!!!!❤️