Often these past weeks, I find
and dusty corner of the workshop, used to sop up spilled fluids,
a final task before being thrown into the dumpster and hauled away as trash. Listening to a recent podcast of a Sunday morning I missed, I was given the image of God reweaving our stories.
I remembered the gifted and patient owner of a dry cleaning business, a tiny woman who would repair the 3-corner tears in suits my husband wore to job sites. I knew where to look on the cleaned and pressed garments, yet her repairs were so flawless the cloth was like new. Today, a familiar voice reminds me. God simply gauges the damage and reweaves us. Skillfully. Patiently. God makes us new again.