A blog is an autobiography written as you're reading it.

Melted Ice Cream

I apologize for the dearth of posting. Life has been, well…normal. That is to say, things have been busy, but not unnaturally so. I’ve had free time. So why no posts? I have had to rediscover how to write: my words haven’t been dripping off my pen quicker than my hand can write them. For a while I was afraid I would never write again. Why?

Good things never last.

Like ice cream. Ice cream melts so quickly. I take a few licks, savoring the vanilla goodness in the summer’s heat, and before I can catch it, the ice cream is all over my hand. My life is a lot like melted ice cream, some days. I glimpse the tapestry, and everything is gushing and glorious, woven together and living. For an instant I can see God’s plan, and I can see where things are going, and everything makes sense: it takes my breath away. I can’t help but write about it all. It’s one of the best feelings in the world that I’ve experienced.

But the next day my head is back in the dark. No more of the woven brilliance of the tapestry. All I can see is my own thread, running brightly through the dark. Writing seems so pointless. There are no stirring words to write about the darkness. Even the simplest sentences seem…forced. Held up to the bright darkness of day-to-day, humdrum routine, I can’t see the tapestry at all. Just my own thread. Where did it all go?

When my thread is part of the tapestry, it looks marvelous; the bright vermillion completes the picture in a way no other thread can. But in the darkness, that thread is so bright, it’s embarrassing. What is the point of it? No one else around me has a bright thread. When the whirling storm is only a memory amidst the black – what is the point of my tiny insignificant thread? It’s not running anywhere but to more blackness.

It still matters. Don’t forget.

That tiny thread running through the darkness glowing in brilliant color — that is you. Cling tightly to it. Trust God, and be yourself. That thread is not anyone else in the world: it is you. And just as God is weaving the tapestry exactly as he intends it, so he is pulling your tiny thread exactly where it is meant to go. The very fact that you can see that thread — you — there is your memory of the tapestry and what God is doing.

God is doing a marvelous thing in this world. It’s an epic novel, a masterful play, or . . . an intricately woven tapestry. Even when we can’t see it. When all I can see is my own thread — when the ice cream is melting — there’s still a plan happening that very moment. Thank you, God.

God is pulling my thread through eternity whether I’m up above, seeing the tapestry, or whether I’m down in the darkness and I can’t see anything. God loves me. God has a wonderful plan for my life. I need to trust God.

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison

— 1 Corinthians 4:17 (ESV)

Because one day — one day — there will be no more melted ice cream. God will pull my thread back up into the crashing storm, and I’ll see the entire tapestry, woven with the lives of billions of His children. Your thread will be there too. You will feel the wind whip your cheeks, and you will see the glory of God in the finished picture. You will hear the roaring and thundering of the waves, and the darkness will be nothing but a memory.

And we will see Your face with our own eyes
We will gaze with our own eyes
Full on Your glory, never have to look away.

— In a Little While, by Mark and Stephen Altrogge

And it will be forever. There will be no more darkness — only God. God. Standing above the galaxies, holding the finished tapestry. His plan will be complete, and we will be with Him forever. Forever. It is going to happen. He is weaving the tapestry every day of our lives.

Even on the days we don’t see it.

(Photo Credit Vinskatania Andrias)