A soap opera junkie...me? Off and on during my years, I have become enamored, sadly, to one soap or another. My one and only left is Days of Our Lives. I quickly became enmeshed in their lives, recording the episode to watch at night. Impatient at times with the exaggerated slowness of events unfolding, the time came when I could ignore no longer the emptiness of their lives, the shallowness of their characters and the immoral fiber strung through each viewing. As my husband so aptly put one night (sometimes he had to endure the episode while trying to sleep), "people are never happy on that show and they never work!"
At times, the producer of this show would recap - showing old footage and using clips that reminded you of who this or that person used to be, who they were married to, and what terrible storms they had weathered. The characters usually remain true throughout, and past deeds convince you of his/her probable course in life. Their lives are lived before you showing every color, every vibrant hue...and every dark thread.
It is the dark color, this deepening of void that attracts...recognizing the lure of forbidden while anticipating the reaction when faced with dire consequences. It is this darkness that can compel, spellbind, delude, and slowly but eventually acclimate you to immorality.
This darkness is not exclusive to soap operas. From family members who relentlessly pursue the dangerous course of their lives, to fellow workers indulging in the drugs of life to fill empty hours and shallow desires. From T.V. shows to reality, the present culture weaves its treacherous whims as destiny...a pattern we can mimic or reject, pursue or turn from.
But then the episode ends, the deceit revealed, and the end in sight...unless the writer of their lives invents a new thread.
There are threads woven in my life that I had rather pull out, discard...pretend it didn't exist. But pretending is only that, and I am faced with the life of me, dotted with ill-chosen threads, this tapestry of life that is bound to my being, ultimately shaped to His good!
The thread woven in me is encased in a mercy quite beyond my comprehension. Despite my unworthiness, there is a Master Weaver who blots out my transgressions and turns my life of threads into a soul devoted to Him, thankful for His grace and His faithfulness. Thank you, Jehovah God, for your mercy and grace, for the sacrifice of Your Son. May your glory shine through each of us, reflecting your love!
A missionary was traveling in the Far East
when he came across a booth in a market place
It was a tapestry maker’s booth.
As he walked by he saw a strange sight.
There appeared in the tapestry almost by magic ,
and the missionary asked his guide for an explanation.
“The man you see,” said the guide, “Is a master weaver.
He is speaking to his apprentice
behind the loom telling him what color thread to use and where to put it.
Only the weaver knows the entire design, so it is vital that the apprentice do
exactly as the master commands.”
“Does the apprentice ever make a mistake?’ asked the missionary.
“Of course. But the weaver is a very kind man in this case and
he will rarely have the boy take out the thread.
Instead, being a great artist, he simply works the mistake in the design.”
At times, the producer of this show would recap - showing old footage and using clips that reminded you of who this or that person used to be, who they were married to, and what terrible storms they had weathered. The characters usually remain true throughout, and past deeds convince you of his/her probable course in life. Their lives are lived before you showing every color, every vibrant hue...and every dark thread.
It is the dark color, this deepening of void that attracts...recognizing the lure of forbidden while anticipating the reaction when faced with dire consequences. It is this darkness that can compel, spellbind, delude, and slowly but eventually acclimate you to immorality.
This darkness is not exclusive to soap operas. From family members who relentlessly pursue the dangerous course of their lives, to fellow workers indulging in the drugs of life to fill empty hours and shallow desires. From T.V. shows to reality, the present culture weaves its treacherous whims as destiny...a pattern we can mimic or reject, pursue or turn from.
But then the episode ends, the deceit revealed, and the end in sight...unless the writer of their lives invents a new thread.
There are threads woven in my life that I had rather pull out, discard...pretend it didn't exist. But pretending is only that, and I am faced with the life of me, dotted with ill-chosen threads, this tapestry of life that is bound to my being, ultimately shaped to His good!
The thread woven in me is encased in a mercy quite beyond my comprehension. Despite my unworthiness, there is a Master Weaver who blots out my transgressions and turns my life of threads into a soul devoted to Him, thankful for His grace and His faithfulness. Thank you, Jehovah God, for your mercy and grace, for the sacrifice of Your Son. May your glory shine through each of us, reflecting your love!
The Tapestry
when he came across a booth in a market place
It was a tapestry maker’s booth.
As he walked by he saw a strange sight.
There appeared in the tapestry almost by magic ,
and the missionary asked his guide for an explanation.
“The man you see,” said the guide, “Is a master weaver.
He is speaking to his apprentice
behind the loom telling him what color thread to use and where to put it.
Only the weaver knows the entire design, so it is vital that the apprentice do
exactly as the master commands.”
“Does the apprentice ever make a mistake?’ asked the missionary.
“Of course. But the weaver is a very kind man in this case and
he will rarely have the boy take out the thread.
Instead, being a great artist, he simply works the mistake in the design.”
