A Remnant Piece of Wrinkled Fabric

A Remnant Piece of Wrinkled Fabric

"Hard times come again no more" are lyrics from my favorite old-time Steven Foster song.  It used to be a theme song for my life.  Who wouldn't nod in agreement to those words?  Hard times are, after all by nature, hard.  But in recent years I have slowly been learning to believe differently.  Maybe I should be embracing hardships instead of bracing for them.  Recently I thought of an analogy to help describe my new beliefs while ironing some fabric for an new project.

When searching for material, I often have to dig through piles of fabrics. Okay, I almost ALWAYS have to dig.  I'll have that one fabric in mind that has strayed from it's intended location, but in determination I dig and dig to find it.  At last, I'll find it hidden and crumpled at the bottom of my shelf.  Picked over by more flashier pieces, these misfits are thoughtlessly shuffled to the bottom of the pile.  But now, I find the treasure I was searching for.  With my fingers I unsuccessfully try to smooth out the creases and bends that distort the true beauty of the patterns.  The threads naturally gravitate back to their familiar folds, unwilling to conform to my finger's coaxing.

So, I turn on the iron and add water to make steam.  Beginning in one corner I gently, but ever so firmly begin pressing the fabric flat as the hot steam works out even the deepest creases.  The threads seem to groan at the heat and weep in protest as the steam sends a pleasing fragrance upward, almost as in sacrifice.  The smell of the hot fabric is pleasant to me, matching the satisfaction of a crumpled mess being formed into it's original design.  The beauty was always there, but hidden by the ugly wrinkles.  In a sign of satisfaction, I snap the fabric to attention and gently lay it out for working.  It's now ready to fulfill it's purpose.

So often I have felt like that piece of fabric.  Crumpled and comfortable in my dark corner of the closet, I can hide where I feel ugly, weak and unused. After all, I tell myself, I am not very usable because I am just a remnant piece of wrinkled fabric.

But then the Quilter seeks me out.  He searches for me because He has a purpose for me even in my weakness.  He finds me in my chosen darkness and He rejoices because He has found me and chosen me.  He loves me even in my wrinkled state, seeing my potential beauty.  Through my tears, my pain and even my protesting, the Quilter gently, but firmly irons and presses me.  I feel the hot trial upon me, steaming and working out the creases and folds of self-effort, pride and perfectionism.

After the trial is done, I am a fresh piece of fabric, ready to be used by my Creator.  I feel crisply awakened to a new sense of direction.  I am now ready to fulfill His purpose, not because of what I am but because of what He has formed me to become.  This is why I can say:

But we have this treasure in jars of clay [in remnants of wrinkled fabric] to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. ⁸ We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; ⁹ persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 

~2 Corinthians 4:7-9 [my interpretation in brackets]

Trials iron us out, making us not only useable but beautiful and glorious.  Through the painful steam, hardships work out our creased sinful nature and reshape us.  Not because of what we do, but because of what our God has done in and for us through the painful pressing.  It is a beautiful thing, worthy of being embraced and celebrated.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 

~James 1:2-4

Although I cannot yet completely embrace trials joyfully, I know Steven Foster's song is no longer my theme song.  I am looking forward to the testing of my faith and the maturity it will bring me.  I am learning to stop trusting in my frail, wrinkled self and instead start trusting in the grandeur and exceeding greatness of the power from God.  Hard times? Bring 'em on!

Need more encouragement?  Consider listening to this song about the blessings of hard times.  Just click on the link below:

"Blessings" by Laura Story