The Master Weaver

 The Master Weaver  

by Gabrielle Vazquez

Have you ever seen the back of a tapestry or any type of embroidered piece of art? It is messy, chaotic,  and rather hideous. Often there are threads sticking out, random clumps of colors, and tangled threads  – there is absolutely no distinguishable pattern to be seen! It looks like utter chaos... until you turn it  around. 

The front of a tapestry is ornate, detailed, and gorgeous. In fact, even the putrid yellow-brown thread  that was all tangled on the back can be seen to add beauty and depth as it was delicately weaved  throughout. Something that is dingy, messy, and ugly on the back was turned into something beautiful  on the front.

 

I do not mean to sound cliché, but is that not what God does with our lives? We tend to only see the  backend of His workings. We see the threads sticking out, the horrible colors He is choosing, and tangles  everywhere. We see the Master Weaver as He is weaving together the story of our life. We only see bits  and pieces of His work, and what we see confuses us. It doesn’t make any sense. 

When I was about three and a half years old, my parents separated due to a strong difference of opinion  regarding their faith. My father was recently saved and wanted to live a life fully sold out to the Lord; my  mother did not. My dad became a pastor not long afterwards. 

I lived with my mom and visited my father on weekends, but just a month after turning 10-years-old, all  of that changed. My mom was in a particularly dark spot in her life and began using drugs rather 

frequently when I was around eight or nine years old. I was too young to know what was happening, but  I could tell something was off. 

On January 19th, 2007, my father picked me up for our weekend visit from my grandparent’s house for  the last time. The weekend prior changed everything, though I had no idea yet. The previous weekend I  was with my dad when we found out that my mom was in the hospital. We went to visit her and then I  

went to my grandparents for the week. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, my dad was making the  necessary arrangements to gain emergency custody of me. While my mom was in the hospital, it was  discovered that she had been using drugs, thus allowing the opportunity for my dad to get custody of  me. So, in the middle of fourth grade, I moved almost two-hours away from my home and had to switch  schools. Because of the situation, the courts would not allow me unchaperoned time with my mom for  about a year. This looks like a big mess of tangled, ugly threads on the back of my tapestry. It was  confusing and seemed to not make any sense. 

I had no idea how this could possibly be for my good. As a 10-year-old child, I viewed this as my dad  reaching into my “perfect life” and ripping me out of everything I knew, taking me from everyone I  loved. I began becoming very bitter and angry with my dad and with God. This situation could only yield  a horrible ugly design on the tapestry of my life. 

My mom got clean within a year and I began visiting her on weekends. My life completely flipped: from  living with my mom, to living with my dad; from visiting my dad, to visiting my mom. My life felt upside  down. 

When I reached high school age, we moved to Mifflinburg, PA for a variety of reasons, but the main one  being me. I was on a bad path and my dad wanted me in a good Christian school. I began attending Penn  View Christian Academy in 9th grade. To me, this was another ugly colored thread in my tapestry. I  wanted little to nothing to do with God and despised the idea of moving and attending a conservative  Christian academy for high school. 

During high school, I began to regularly drink on the weekends when I would visit my mom after she  went to bed. I involved myself in things I never should have taken part in. I was running down the wrong  road. By the time I was 15-years-old, I doubted God’s existence, was determined Christianity was fake,  and despised my father. I was confused why this happened and angry at my dad for doing this to me. I  blamed him for everything bad in my life. I sewed many ugly threads into my tapestry, leaving a messy,  tangled mess on the back. 

I had decided by the age of 17 that God was probably not real and that if He was, He had no role in our  world anymore. I had long decided Christianity was a joke, and I wanted nothing to do with any of it. I  was certain Deism made the most sense; after all, it seemed rather evident to me that God didn’t care  about me. 

As a high school student at Penn View Christian Academy, I attended chapel three times a week and  Bible class regularly. I also attended church regularly, including all special services and youth events. I  was saturated by preaching, worship, prayer... and yet from the age of 14 through 17, I didn’t feel God’s  presence once. Deep inside, this terrified me. I was worried that I was wrong, and Christianity was real. I  thought maybe I had grieved God so badly by my actions and denial to Him that He would never speak  to me again. I’m thankful that wasn’t the case.

In January 2014, I sat in the last service of Youth Discovery, a youth event in Duncannon, PA, and the  Lord's presence was there. I felt so uncomfortable and did everything I could think of to distract myself,  hoping God would not speak to me. Then the altar call came. I didn’t pay attention to the sermon at all. I  have no idea who the preacher even was. All I remember is that I felt God’s presence and felt Him speak  to me. It had been years since I felt anything like that and the thought of ignoring Him terrified me, so I  walked down to pray. On my way to the altar, I vividly remember thinking “Here I am, going to pray to a  God I don’t know if I believe in.” God heard that remark, and responded, “If you didn’t believe in Me,  you wouldn’t be walking to this altar right now.” 

That night, I decided I wanted to serve Jesus. I wanted to let Him take all of the ugly threads and tangled  messes and make something beautiful of it. I had a lot of decisions to make, and seemingly a lot of  things to give up if I wanted God to be my Master Weaver. I took some time to evaluate what I needed  to give up to serve Jesus. On February 9th, 2014, I counted the cost and gave my all to the Master  Weaver. 

When I look at my life’s tapestry, I still see the tangled threads, the messiness, the ugly colors... There  still is not a pattern that I can see from the back, but I can see God’s hand. So many of the ugly threads  and tangles I saw, God was already using to create His work. 

If my dad had not become a Christian, I never would have known about salvation. 

If my dad never got custody of me, I would have walked down a very, very different path. I was nine  years old when I snuck my first drink of alcohol. I was a child, but was already going in the wrong  direction. 

If we never moved to Mifflinburg, PA for me to attend Penn View Christian Academy for high school, I am  sure I would not be a Christian. 

All of the tangles, messes, and ugly threads I saw on the back of my tapestry, I can now see how God  used them for His good. He is the Master Weaver, and I know Him personally. I can see His hand working  throughout my life. I know He is the master of making masterpieces. And occasionally, He lets me see  how a particular tangled bunch of threads is something beautiful on the front. 

Because of what I have experienced, God has opened doors for me to help others who come from  broken homes. He has given me a burden for those who are hurt and needy. He has given me  compassion and love for those who deny Him and question Him. His role as redeemer goes beyond  redeeming us from our sin. What the enemy meant for evil, God redeems and uses for good. 

It does not matter what you have gone through or what you are going through, God is the Redeemer. He  is the Master Weaver. He can take your tangled threads and your messy past and make a beautiful  tapestry of it. All you must do is count your cost, and give your all to the Master Weaver.