The Other Side of the Thread
Trusting the Story God is Still Weaving
There’s this old metaphor I love, one that whispers truth without needing to shout. Picture a tapestry, like the ones you’d find hanging in the halls of ancient castles or tucked inside old monasteries. On the front, it’s breathtaking. Rich colors, sweeping scenes like hunts and battles, gardens and kingdoms. Everything has its place. Every thread tells a piece of the story.
But flip it over and you get a very different view. The backside is all knots and loose ends. Threads tangle, overlap, disappear into nothing. It looks messy, even accidental.
And that’s the side most of us live on.
We want our lives to look like the front of the tapestry.
Clean.
Meaningful.
Clear.
But most days, we’re left staring at the underside, trying to make sense of the tangled mess. Why the heartbreak? Why the delay? Why is it taking so long for anything to make sense?
I think of that scene in The Lord of the Rings, where Sam says, “I wonder what sort of tale we’ve fallen into.” That’s the right question. Because you are in a story. A sweeping, epic story that began long before you arrived and will end more gloriously than you can imagine. But you don't get to see all of it just yet.
God is weaving something. And His hands are masterful. From where we stand, it can feel like He’s forgotten a thread or tied a knot too tight. But He hasn’t. That thread of sorrow? It’s shaping contrast so joy can shine. That delay that makes you restless? It’s the tension that gives the story weight.
There’s no wasted pain in the Kingdom of God. Not a single thread.
But you have to hold on.
You have to trust the Author even when the plot twists don’t make sense. We’re so tempted to believe the story is off track when suffering comes, when dreams crumble, when the rescue doesn’t show up on time. But the Cross looked like the worst day in history, and it turned out to be the most beautiful.
One day, you’ll see the front side. Maybe not in this life. But the day will come when the veil lifts, and you’ll see what He was doing with all of it. The knots will make sense. The colors will come alive. And you’ll say, “Ah. Of course. He didn’t miss a thing.”
Until then, stay in the story. Don’t bail out. Don’t assume the chaos means He’s not there. He’s with you in it. He is closer than breath. And He’s weaving something more breathtaking than you can imagine.
The tapestry isn’t finished. But you, my friend, are being written into something eternal.
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I embroider so this is a beautiful image for me. I think about how the front is perfect, and what you want everyone to see. But the back (like you said) tells a different story. I like the back because I can see exactly where I started, and where I ended up. This thread connects to that one, and goes back around, etc. What looks like a thick thread on the front is really 6 tiny threads twisted together, but you wouldn’t see that unless you look at the back of the hoop. When I’m done, I glue a circle of felt to the back to cover up all the work. The felt is usually a light color. So if you hold it up to the light, you can see all the work shining through. A secret you wouldn’t see if it’s just hanging on the wall. Such amazing imagery that perfectly describes our lives and our faith.