When you look at the fabric of your life so far, what colours do you see woven through it? Which shades have been the most dominant? What patterns have emerged in the tapestry of your days? If every experience has been a stitch in the intricate fabric of your life, then how have you been shaped by the fibres of all you have lived through? What does your life’s tapestry look like?

Fabric is made by the interweaving of many strands of thread, and each thread is itself made of countless tiny fibres twisted together. Some threads run in one direction, while others are woven across them at right angles. Together, they create strength, texture, pattern, and beauty.

So it is with life.

Living is the weaving. Some things remain constant, while other things change with the passing of seasons and the unfolding of circumstances. At times the pattern seems soft and harmonious, and at other times it grows complicated, strained, or hard to understand.

Some seasons of life are beautiful and gentle. Others are painful, difficult, and heavy beyond words. Yet every season leaves its mark. Every joy, every sorrow, every hope, every disappointment becomes part of the fabric. And somehow, all of it contributes to the making of who we are.

There are things that remain steady through life’s ups and downs, and there are things that change.

The foundation of our life’s fabric — our deepest beliefs, our clearest convictions, our inner strength, and our determination — is laid down first. These are the threads that must hold firm. They are stretched tight and bear the weight. They form the structure that carries us through the years.

Then there are the other threads, woven in and out, drawn through the strong foundation, crossing over and under. These are the changing threads. They may be bright or dark, fragile or strong, smooth or rough, fine or heavy. They are the experiences, emotions, memories, losses, and gifts we gather along the way. They are what give the fabric its pattern.

And it is the joining of the two that creates the richness of the whole.

If I had been given the choice, I would have chosen warm and luminous colours for my life’s tapestry. I would have chosen orange for joy and happiness, red for passion and courage, yellow for cheerfulness and light. I would have chosen warm undertones, with the earthy depth of auburn and brown. I would have chosen a fabric made mostly of comfort, love, celebration, and peace.

Yet when I study the fabric of my life as it has truly been woven, I see darker threads running through it too. I see black and grey, colours that appeared during the darkest and most painful days, colours I never would have chosen for myself had the choice been mine.

And yet, when I step back and look at the fabric from a distance, with the eyes of my heart, I am taken aback by its beauty.

Yes, I see the bright colours too. I see happy family dinners. I see babies being born. I see sunflowers, laughter, giggles, and moments of deep gladness that still glow warmly in my soul.

But I also see the colours of sorrow. I see cancer. I see divorce. I see brain and spinal tumours. I see a horrific car accident. I see tears, sadness, fear, and heartbreak. I see the heavy threads I once wished had never touched my life at all.

And still, beneath it all, holding it all, there is the foundation.

The foundation of my life’s fabric, laid down from the very beginning, is the Word of God and His love for me. That is the strength beneath every other thread. That is what has held under tension. That is what has not given way. It has carried me to this point, and it will carry me until the day I finally close my eyes.

And then I notice something else.

Running through the fabric, there is also a golden thread, and it fills my heart with love and my eyes with unshed tears. I see my children holding my hand in hospital after my spinal cord surgery. I see the love of friends who made a prayer quilt for me during my breast cancer days. I see a dear friend driving me to radiation therapy. I see friends praying for me in the darkest hours, when I was too tired and too afraid to find words of my own.

Those golden threads shine with love, faithfulness, kindness, and care. They remind me that even in suffering, I was never abandoned. Even in sorrow, I was held.

And so I have come to believe that the strong vertical threads of faith, together with the changing horizontal threads of experience, have created the richness and texture of my life’s fabric. God has been weaving it all together, thread by thread, season by season, joy by joy, sorrow by sorrow, up to this very moment.

And when the weaving is finally complete, I believe it will be seen clearly that none of it was random. Not one thread. Not one colour. Not one tear. All of it held in the hands of God, and all of it part of a greater design.