Our feet moved across the cobble stones, the heels of our shoes clicked against them, and we meandered through the narrow steep streets of Positano as we headed to visit an elderly lady. The door was tucked in behind the stone wall and at first it was hard to believe there was a house there. Yet when the door was opened, we entered into a small but airy space that was simply furnished and the colour of sunshine and the smell of espresso enveloped us. In a corner window that gave a vista of the beach along this stretch of the Amalfi coast, stood a frame with a large round pillow that held hundreds of threads, kept in place by straight pins. A pattern had begun to appear as these threads were twisted and plaited together to create an exquisite pattern of lace! In this small “room with a view”, an elderly woman passed her time by intricately and precisely creating lace from hundreds of loose threads.
In a recent morning as I drove to work I thought about holes in the heart; holes left by the storms that have battered and broken the heart. Holes that seem impossible to mend and put back together again could just take up so much space in our lives. I was thinking of someone who has huge holes in their heart in this season of life.
My mother used to darn the holes in our socks which meant they were still useful and wearable. But is the mending or healing of the holes left in the soul and heart, which may take a lifetime or beyond, only so we are “useful” in life? If we are created for passionate living and God redeems the pain, it seems to me that it isn’t just about mending the breaks so my life is “useful”. That sounds so…oh just so utilitarian, so emotionless, so without feel, passion, purpose or hope, so scientific.
Could it be that somehow there is a way that all those loose threads within the soul and heart can be taken with infinite patience and immense vision and woven into a beautiful pattern of lace so that my heart, my feminine heart and soul can live out this side of God’s character? As a woman can I let this slow process of twisting and plaiting those threads, the movement of the needle and the waiting while others are tended to, be seen as a “lace making” part of the redemption of the wild and dark storms in my life?
“Lace is a lightweight, openwork fabric, patterned with open holes in the work, made by machine or by hand. The holes can be formed via removal of threads or cloth from a previously woven fabric, but more often open spaces are created as part of the lace fabric.” Wikipedia
How mysterious that what was “previously woven” and “open spaces” are what give the beauty and uniqueness to the feminine lace of my heart.