My Quilt

I cannot take credit for the lovely poem I’ve posted in today blog. I truly have tried to trace down the author, but haven’t been able to find them. For now, they remains anonymous. But the content is so lovely, the poem is worthy of sharing. It gives us much to think about. If anyone knows the author, let me know. Thanks, Janet

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As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt

before the Lord along with all the other souls.

Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a

quilt in many piles. An Angel sat before each of us

sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that

is our life.

But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile,

I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was.

They were filled with giant holes. Each square was

labeled with a part of my life that had been

difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced

with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I endured,

which were the largest holes of all.

I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares.

Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other

tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright

hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and

was disheartened.

My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth

together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.

Finally the time came when each life was to be

displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of

truth.

The others rose, each in turn, holding up their

tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel

looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise.

My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn’t had

all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and

laughter. But there had also been trials of illness,

and death, and false accusations that took from me my

world, as I knew it.

I had to start over many times. I often struggled with

the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the

strength to pick up and begin again.

I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for

help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up

to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time

offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not

melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of

those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it

was, and I had to accept it for what it was.

I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my

life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air.

I gazed around at the others who stared at me with

wide eyes.

Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light

flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of

Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and

love in His eyes. He said, “Every time you gave over

your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and

My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when

you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until

there was more of Me than there was of you.”

May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing

Christ to shine through.

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