Woven Together: a poem for my friends who are graduating

The fabric of ministry - woven of different colors and textures of ministry - we can be stretched and shaped - sewn together - tailored 

Each person is their own strand of thread. Each different in the fiber of their being, with different origins, different processing. 

All of us are carded, pulled, bits of where we came from falling away. For better and for worse.

Some are dyed, some left in their natural colors and textures. 

Some are spun fine, some left loose. Some are combed in, bound, inseparable from others. 

I wonder if God is the spinner of fates or simply a weaver. A weaver who surveys the yarn in their stash and creates based upon what they have? 

If God is not the spinner, creativity is central to God’s art of creation. 

But for what does God create this woven fabric? 

Perhaps the fabric is ministry. God weaves ministry to keep warm those needing protection from the cold. 

What is God’s tools are a sewing kit?  God can take a woven tapestry of ministry and tailor clothing. Clothing that brings dignity to naked, vulnerable humans. Tailor clothing that fits a community in ways that compliment natural beauty. Tailor clothing that makes a statement. Tailor ministry that acts as a barrier from the weathering elements. 

Ministry as woven by God is sometimes only one or two, a warp and weft. Sometimes a collection of scraps that forms diverse texture and color and origin and composite. 

Sometimes threads knitted for ministry need unraveled. Soaked, relaxed, to be wound up and woven again. 

Maybe God weaves our lives of our already spun fates, 

not only our vocations.

Lives that look like gauze, binding up the wounds of society - healing. 

Lives that are thin, light weight, leaving space for breath.

Lives that are broad and woven of long fibers, covering great spans with their softness and strength.

Lives that are mere scraps.

Sometimes we are weaves in heat too long, shrunk. Bleeding. Dyes not set, but with natural beauty uncovered. 

Sometimes a woven masterpiece is overworn, thin.

Needing connection, mended to scraps. Bringing both a second life. 

Some not worn in the friction. Felted, combined in strength, fibers fusing with neighboring threads. 

Lives that look like felt, sturdy. Maybe rough but  able to scrub clean, scrub smooth the way of snags. 

No matter the fabric, 

No matter the thread, 

No matter the combing, pulling, processing, dying, knitting…

Lives that are like threads,

Vocations that come of the already spun fates, 

Our God with a sewing kit, will not let us be wasted. God’s needle of creation 

and connecting thread of love

God’s loom 

Will always make a masterpiece. Perfect for such a time as this.