Threads

“In the tapestry of life, we’re all connected. Each of us is a gift to those around us helping each other be who we are, weaving a perfect picture together.” ~ Anita Moorjani

Threads.

Life is one big tapestry woven together by threads of all colors and fibers. They intersect pieces of fabric into a fully formed pattern. A garment, a quilt, a life.

This thought floated through my mind on Sunday. My husband is serving as pastor of a very small congregation in a nearby community. He grew up Baptist, was a full-time pastor in the Disciples of Christ, and now a practicing Episcopalian leading a former Methodist group.

Talk about threads! The church is a historic building with beautiful stained-glass windows. The handful of people that are determined to carry on despite a shrinking congregation have opened their hearts and arms to us.

We meet once a month, because the church is no longer able to sustain a full-time congregation…YET. Given this would be our only opportunity to celebrate Christmas, yesterday was all about carols and Luke chapter 2.

Our godson and goddaughter joined us, as did a couple we met at the beginning of this year and became fast friends with. There were other visitors as well.

As I looked around, I realized the many threads that were woven into making this exact moment.

A friend from childhood was the one who invited Caston to lead Easter services this year that started it all. He is our resident musician and plays for our service. My goddaughter’s grandmother was his piano teacher growing up.

The family who has kept this church afloat is another thread. One of my clients is married to a family member. The first time we visited, she was in attendance, and we made the connection.

Our friends that visited yesterday had met this client at a writer’s workshop, along with me in February. They remembered one another.

A longtime member’s mother was a Hudson from the same community that my dad’s family is from. Her ancestors are buried in the same cemetery. We are trying to figure out how we are related. We know we must be given it is a family cemetery.

Threads! Threads everywhere. Weaving and drawing us to one another. Isn’t that the message of Christmas?

At one point, we were all singing the chorus of Leonard Cohen’s, “Hallelujah.” The church is fortunate to have a wonderful singer that shares special music each month. He encouraged us to sing with him. We lifted our voices and instantly I felt this wonderful peace flow over my soul.

My childhood friend then played a special arrangement of Silent Night, O Holy Night and Joy to the World. In that moment, it was Christmas for me. If I get to do nothing else over the next couple of weeks, I am fine.

And it was all wrapped up in threads that tied each of us in the room together. Almost like magic. I feel it is a little magic.

The magical thread of love that flows from me to you, from you to someone else, and on and on.