[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Friday, September 13, 2013

[Paul]

Hello and good Friday to you all, or at least for the majority of you readers out there , at least as this is being written.  I hope that your day is going well or went well, by God's matchless grace and His providential care.  I also hope that, if you do certain special pleasant things over the weekend, that they will go according to God's plan firstly and secondly according to your plans.

Ann Paxton of Montgomery TX contributed today's article entitled "My Cross-stitch Comfort," rendered as follows:

I've always enjoyed cross-stitch, especially cross-stitch.  I love to watch a picture slowly take shape on a blank expanse of fabric, almost like a painting made of thread.  I find it satisfying to follow a plan, and since there's a photo included with every kit, to know exactly what results to expect.  Counting the squares along the grid comforts me, giving a sense of order even when life seems to be spinning out of control.  No wonder cross-stitch is so soothing to someone like me.  Someone who likes to feel in control.

Control--that's what was eluding me one afternoon back in April 1991.  My husband had recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer, and I knew I could do nothing to change that terrible fact.  I was driving south on I-45, heading home after some errands.  The bluebonnets blooming on the freeway embankment blurred as tears streaked my makeup.  Classical music played on the radio, but I wasn't listening.  All I could hear was the word "why," echoing over and over in my head.  Why did Wil have to have cancer?

Our once stable life was so uncertain.  I had nothing solid to stand on.  Nothing.  Even cross-stitch offered little comfort; I'd started--and abandoned--several projects.  All of my whys were not helping, either.  I'd have to face this and accept Wil's diagnosis.  Help me God, I prayed, gripping the steering wheel.  Give me the strength to support Wil.

I couldn't go home like this.  I wanted to be strong for Will, but my confidence was gone.  My favorite needlecraft store was on the way.  The aisles brimming with tools, books and vivid skeins of thread and all the fine examples of needlework might lift my spirits.  They always did.

"Hello," a saleswoman said, "can I help you?"

"No, thank you," I said.  "Just browsing." I milled around, stopping to inspect the counted cross-stitch.  One kit caught my eye.  It depicted Noah's ark, safe on dry land, the paired elephants, giraffes and lions going forth into the world, Noah watching from the deck with upraised arms, the rainbow in the sky.  In the corner, a stitched Bible verse.  And that border! An exquisite, blooming vine in blues and greens, looping like a gentle embrace around the ark and animals.  I wanted it.  But did I _need it? Recalling those unfinished projects at home, I slipped the kit back in its slot in the display counter and kept browsing.

I glanced at my watch; it was time to go.  As I pushed open the door to leave, I turned back for one last look at the piece of needlework that had so captivated me.  When I couldn't find the kit right away, I felt I'd lost something precious.  As soon as I spotted it, I pulled it from the counter and studied the picture again, admiring its soft, rich colors.

"It's a beauty," the saleswoman said.

"Yes," I agreed, "it is."

I paid for it and strode back to my car, my skin warmed by the Texas sun.  I set my treasure beside me on the passenger seat.  Maybe this is the one, I thought, the one I'll see through.  Perhaps somehow, this particular pattern would help me find the strength I needed.

At home that evening, Wil napped nearby as I pulled and separated one color of gloss from another, the silky threads warm and reassuring between my fingers.  I took a closer look at the passage from Genesis in the corner of the cross-stitch picture.  "Then God told Noah ... I have placed a rainbow in the clouds as a sign of My promise until the end of time, to you and all the earth." It was a bible story I'd known since I was a child, but its message felt fresh to me, immediate.

I set the thread down.  Noah had put his trust in God, and God gave him a sign:  the rainbow, a token of his faithfulness.  God would be for me and for my husband.  I would have to trust.  Even if I couldn't control the situation, Someone who cared and was always there for us was watching.  God had given me a sign, too, in His perfect way, knowing that cross-stitch was the language that would speak to my aching heart.  He gave me something beautiful to work on, something I could touch.

Wil's doctors were upbeat.  His prognosis was good.  Still, each time panic set in, I picked up my cross-stitch and got to work.  By the time I finished, Wil's treatment was a complete success.  Today, 13 years later, the Noah's Ark picture hangs in our dining room.  It has comforted me through many a storm.  God's unfailing love is the ark that carries me.

And there you have Ann's article which I hope ministered to you today.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively in these last days in which we live.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul