As much as I tried to look under the warp to see it, I could not get a decent view of the reverse side of the fabric. Until now. I am overjoyed to see that this gray and blue warp is even better than I had imagined. As the first towel on the warp rounds the cloth beam I see a silver-like glimmer behind the cursive “Peach,” and shiny blue loveliness at the borders.
Yet, this is but a fleeting glimpse. Oh, drawloom, you make me wait sooo long to see what I have woven. In that waiting, I continue to weave, content with the process. The towels that will result will last a very long time. That makes every minute at the loom time well spent.
We work and work for things that are temporary. Even the most spectacular drawloom-woven towels wear out eventually. God has placed eternity in our hearts. We know there’s more to life that these fleeting days. Eternity gives meaning for today. The full scope of what God is doing is beyond our here-and-now comprehension. But at times, when we are given a glimpse into his wondrous mysteries, we are assured that eternity with him will far surpass our brightest imaginations.
Suddenly, I am able to see the tapestry on the loom from a distant vantage point. Aha! I can see that the left shoulder of Lucia is nicely defined, and that her shoulder appears to be in front of the turquoise rabbit hutch. What I am not able to discern up close becomes crystal clear from a distance. I have an unusual tool in the basket at my loom bench that gives me this advantage. Binoculars! I use them whenever I want to get a better sense of the overall context, color, and definition of what I am weaving in the tapestry. By peering through the WRONG side of the binoculars I am able to view the tapestry as if from a great distance. It is just the help I need to keep pursuing this mystery of weaving wool butterflies on a linen warp to make a recognizable, memorable image.
Twelve placemats just came off the loom! Now, for the finishing work. Measuring, examining, repairing, washing and drying, and hemming. Soon they will be ready to dress the table for a home-cooked meal. Mmmm… The focus is on food and fellowship. The placemats are there to catch the drips and crumbs. And then, washed and made ready for the next meal.
Christmas. While our focus is on food and fellowship, a beautiful mystery plays out right in front of us. A baby named Jesus entered the world. Christmas celebrates this. Jesus came to take away our offenses, catching our drips and crumbs. The mystery of God is glorious. This is the mystery: Jesus takes our stains, and we who trust in him come out washed and made ready for glory. This is good news, for which a weary world rejoices!
I can see the end of the warp! Finishing is in sight. And then, my daughter phones, “Mom! I’m headed to the hospital. This baby is ready!” Weaving suddenly becomes far less important… That was two weeks ago, and little Ari was born. Now, back at the loom, I’ll cross the finish line on this linen upholstery fabric before the day is over.
When the back tie-on bar becomes visible, it’s the beginning of the end. And then, the moment the back tie-on bar comes over the back beam I celebrate. It’s the final stretch!
We are participants in a great mystery! Christ in us. For those unfamiliar with the tools and methods of handweaving, it’s a mystery how threads can become cloth. But the handweaver knows. The great mystery of God is that Christ may dwell in us. For those who receive him, the peace of Christ rules within. His presence is woven in.
The anticipation of finished cloth is nothing in relation to the anticipation of a new baby in the family. Imagine the anticipation of our holy Father to see the glorious threads of Christ woven in us.
Ten shafts and ten treadles. Isn’t it fascinating how all those parts synchronize and work together to turn threads into cloth? It’s a mystery unless you’ve been in the weaver’s seat. Even then, it’s a wonder. Especially when you see linen threads turn into this amazing five-shaft satindräll!
There are three towels left on this warp, but I am weaving the remainder as one long piece. I will cut it into separate towels after it’s off the loom. Or, I might change my mind and leave it long as a table runner.
Mystery. The mystery of the ages is that Christ can dwell in us. Understand that? No, but I do understand a weaver sitting at the loom, managing the threads and throwing the shuttle to produce a specific fabric. What if I invite Jesus Christ to take control of everything being woven in my life? That is a mystery worth pursuing.