Drafts on Unbraiding
You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.
Psalm 139:5
I’m feeling unbraided.
The strands of my life that hold me together have come, well, unbraided. My little world is unraveling strand by strand. Have you ever watched a well-worn sweater start to fray at the edges? You think, oh, look at that. I wonder what is going to happen? Do I need to do something or can I just ignore it?
It starts slow. Almost unnoticed, this unraveling. A little catch here, a twig that pulls at us. Maybe a relationship that is strained, a strange sound in the car engine. We think this will right itself. Then we get hooked on something more substantial like a gate latch, that actually yanks us back. We feel it. A fight with a spouse, a surprise bad review at work. We see a few strands of fabric come out.
I have this beautiful airy scarf that is swirls of yellows and blues. It is so delicate I can see through it, and subsequently, it is easily damaged. Large loops of thread pull out and I am startled and upset; immediately I drop everything and set to work pushing the strings back through, attempting to rethread them into place.
Why am I so quick to reweave this scarf and yet allow the sweater to slowly come undone?
The sweater is hardy. Thick yarn twisted together to protect me from the cold, where the scarf is purely ornamental. I have high expectations of the outerwear, it is meant to keep the chill out, take the brunt of what the world throws at me. I hope it will not allow the elements to seep through to the next layer. Yet, of the scarf, I have no such demands. Its sole job is to look pretty. It will not do any heavy lifting. A slight breeze will blow directly through its almost invisible form, like a net meant to allow sea life to keep swimming.
When my surface life unbraids, I’m often quick to react. I don’t want to appear unraveled, like a mussed French braid that makes me look like I’m losing it. I can pull my outside self together. Shove the toys and dirty laundry in a backroom. Shape my mouth into a smile. Swallow down the sadness or anger that is trying to work its way up. I pull the threads back in, rearranging my life to look pretty.
One day, we unshelve that old sweater. It’s getting cold. Life is getting harder. It’s more difficult to pretend we have it together. The pretty scarf isn’t really working anymore. It’s too delicate. It’s too airy. It is meant for good days when the sun is shining and we are meeting a friend to share good news like a new love or a business idea. The smile is real(?). But on dark days, in the middle of winter, we need this sweater.
I have ignored this sweater. Its problems. I completely forgot it was snagged and snarled, its edges coming undone. It has become unbraided. I don’t need the pretty scarf. I need the warm sweater. I have given all my attention to the ornamental and I have ignored the practical, the substance, the needs.
My life has frayed these last few weeks. The things I hold dear have dissipated in my hands. The touch stones in my life have sunk and I’m staring at a wide river to cross. My beautiful little house is sold. There is no stepping stone in place. Busyness has crowed out my writing. This website has fallen along the wayside. Relationships once easy have become strained. Places we frequented have changed. The things I have held onto to keep me above water have overflowed.
So. . . I put away the lovely scarf and I reach for the solid sweater. Yet, I have let it unravel. I have not kept my eye on it as I should. It is something to be monitored—like my faith. To be clear, not who my faith is in, but my faith, the part I’m responsible for. He, God, does not change! But faith is not given and then stored away for when the storms roll in, like the sweater in the closet. This is my mistake. I think the sun is out, I’m fine, this light-as-air scarf will be perfect. I tell myself that I don’t need to make sure my protective wear is in good order. It will be there when I need it.
But our faith can, and does, get caught and tugged and torn. When I get a tug on my faith, I must get out my Bible; I must search around in the linen closet for my neglected sewing kit and set to repairs. Reading the Word of God will rebraid the strands that have come loose.
I must deal with these rough thoughts left blowing in the wind.
Why is this hard thing happening to me? My faith begins to unwind.
Where is God? He could stop this? The unraveling continues unchecked.
God must not love me or care about me. I got caught on the gate latch.
When I read the living Word of God, it sets to fix the unraveling. The truth begins to knot the loose threads so they don’t lose their form.
Psalm 120:1 In my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me. The Lord hears me. This rebuilds my faith.
Isaiah 26:3 You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. The Lord gives me peace when I seek Him. I am covered.
Isaiah 40:10 Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you in my righteous right hand. God fills in the holes in my faith.
I hear the truth through the Bible and I activate the peace it gives through my prayer life. The layers of my defense against a bad day, a bad season, a lifelong challenge are rebraided in my relationship with God. When I do the work in the spiritual realm through time in prayer, my soul is strengthened, the parts that have come undone are made whole again.
There is so often not a change in the physical (because that would not take faith); our faith is strengthened by being woven with truth and the peace of the Holy Spirit. The Bible teaches that a three cord strand is not easily broken. A braid has strength. Ecclesiastes 4:12b ”…A threefold cord is not quickly broken.”
Are you trying to get through life in a thin scarf?
Perhaps you are feeling the damp cold of uncertainty and doubt seeping in?
Have you let your faith come undone?
Is there a hole in your protective layer?
Don’t despair. Faith can be rebraided. Pull in strands of truth, prayer and the Word to strengthen your faith. Keep pulling those threads tight. The Holy Spirit is the Author and Finisher of your faith. Ask the Lord to strengthen your belief so you can withstand the bitter trials with a peace that passes all understanding (because it’s supernatural). This faith and peace has nothing to do with the outside, but what is in our souls; the warmth of God’s love and the promise of eternity where faith will not be necessary because we will be with The Lord.
Our trials of faith are but temporary, but we need a good sweater for these seasons.