Tag: grand weaver

When Love Is Not Easy

Karen

With this big Swedish loom, it is easy for me to get a firm beat. I can swing that hanging beater like nobody’s business! But that doesn’t serve me well for this delicate fabric. The streaks in this cloth are evidence that I’m struggling to get a consistent light beat. It is easy to show love to someone who loves us back, and like swinging the beater on this loom, brings positive momentum we feel good about. But what about the times love isn’t easy? …when a gentle touch takes more effort?

Swedish lace curtains in the making.
Loosely woven fabric is good practice for beating the weft in evenly. The Swedish lace pattern “windows” will become more visible after the first washing.

Anyone can be nice to someone who is nice; but can we show kindness to someone we’re at odds with? Thoughtfulness to the ungrateful, love to people who won’t love back… Not easy! Gentleness toward those with rough edges? That is the test of love.

If I only love those who love me back, I haven’t learned love yet. Love belongs to the greatest and the least, the grateful and the ungrateful. It is demonstrated by the master weaver, whose skilled hand taps each thread in with consistent grace. Never underestimate the gentle strength of love.

May love find its way to you and from you.

Gently,
Karen

Perfectly Imperfect

Karen

Five new tubes of quality Egyptian cotton thread. They look perfect! And one very old boat shuttle (possibly from the 1800’s). Quite worn and used, it has noticeable flaws and imperfections. This shuttle is very simple, but it fits perfectly in my hands, and easily glides across the warp, carrying weft thread across. The shuttle’s worth is measured by what it becomes in my hands as a weaver.

antique boat shuttle
Antique boat shuttle found on eBay, with new fitted spindle added. Cotton thread will be woven to make curtains.

If I am noticed by people, that makes me important, right? And if I’m never noticed — what then? Does that mean I am less important? I hope we can base our personal value on something besides popularity and opinions; if not, we’re left trying to prove our worth.

It is marvelous that there is a grand weaver who knows us personally. The one who stretched out the skies like a piece of cloth and sprinkled it with stars as if they were glass beads, knows each of us by name. He knows all the flaws, yet he delights to pick up that worn, imperfect shuttle and use it to create something spectacular. My worth is defined in his hands.

May you hear your name pleasantly spoken.

Imperfect, but happy,
Karen