When we think of the Weaver sitting at the loom of our lives, we tend to think of God. Jehovah. The Omnipotent Father. One who is above our sorrows, our triumphs and our dreams. One who doesn’t know how much we hurt or how important our triumphs over the everyday trials that come our way.
But the Incarnation brought God down to earth. In Christ, he was reconciling us, or as a friend put it, ‘he was hugging the world to himself’.
It is not just God directing our lives, weaving the threads of our existence into a garment of praise. Rather, it is God/Jesus, Son of Man, Son of God, Imago Dei; the very image of God, who lovingly, compassionately, weaves together our sorrows, our joys, our victories and defeats, working all things to our ultimate good.
We do not dance on puppet strings. What we do and the decisions we make day by day have an impact on ourselves, our world and on the Weaver. And he takes those acts, those choices, and weaves them into the fabric of the world.
Gently he calls to me,
Softly he comes.
Weaving my life on the loom of his love.
Though I can’t see it, the pattern he weaves;
Though I resist it and try to break free.
With patience and wisdom,
the Master weaves on,
‘til I’m a garment of praise and his to put on.
And He loves me and keeps me
and calls me his own.
I’ll love him and serve him and I’ll be his own.
Dark threads and golden ones,
laughter and tears.
Flow through my life as he gathers the years.
A world full of wonder,
of reason and rhyme.
My life is a tapestry, woven of time.
Gently he calls to us,
softly he comes.
Weaving our lives on the loom of his love.
The Master’s a weaver of garments down here.
To be worn in his mansions
of glory up there.
Donna Swanson, from Splinters of Light, c.2010