Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Hebrews 11

When the picture isn't complete (and that's okay)

I started cross-stitching again. It’s this hobby I sort of start and stop and then start again. This time, it was part of my plan to enjoy life more. Because January brought with it the return of two of our favorite TV shows–Downton Abbey and Sherlock–in addition to all the Doctor Who we’ve been watching on Netflix. So, cross-stitching is my justification for spending hours watching TV at the end of a day. At least I’ll have something to show for it, besides having enjoyed a good visual story. I picked up this pattern I’d started years ago because I like to finish what I start, and it’s big enough that it will occupy me for months, probably, and I’ll be saved from having to make a decision about what to stitch  next.

cross stitch finished picThat’s what it will look like finished, Lord willing, someday.

In the meantime, this is where I’m at.

cross stitch frontI can catch glimpses of the final picture, but for the most part, I’m stitching green, green and more green. I finally switched to brown because I needed some variety.

Such is life.

Maybe you’ve been there. Everything feels the same, looks the same and you wonder if you’re getting anywhere with anything. Will your life ever look like you’ve envisioned?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But I believe all those green threads and brown ones, the drab and colorful, will all come together to make something beautiful.

It might just take time.

I’m not particularly good at cross-stitch. Inevitably I end up counting wrong and have to tear out some threads and start again or improvise so it still looks somewhat the same as the pattern.

cross stitch back knots

More often, I find myself in knots. A long thread will wrap around itself in the back and suddenly I’m unable to pull it through and continue.

The back of my cross-stitch creations are full of knots.

Such is life.

My past, my present, they’re full of knots too. Times when I’ve been careless or hurried or thoughtless or selfish. Some of the knots I don’t have a reason for. But they all keep me from moving ahead.

Sometimes I try to untangle them to save as much thread as possible. Other times, I have to cut them and start over.

Such is life.

But in the end, it’s not the knots and the stray threads and the mess-ups that matter.

It’s where I’m headed.

cross stitch plan picture

And how I’m getting there.

I can see how this cross-stitch picture will end. But I have a lot of work to do to get there. And it won’t finish itself.

In a way, such is life.

I believe God is making all things new. That the Creator, who created, has not finished creating, restoring and renewing. He hasn’t given up on this world or His people.

I can’t see what it will look, but I catch glimpses every now and then.

I see enough to believe that we–earth, humanity– are headed somewhere. But we have a lot of work to do. And God could finish it Himself. But what if He asked us to be part of it?

What if we’re creating, restoring, renewing the world in partnership with Him?

What if each of us all has one color of thread and we need to work together to complete the picture?

And what if we tie ourselves in knots trying to get it right?

Will we give up? Or will we untangle the webs, cut the strings and start over when necessary?

Will we keep moving forward until the picture is finished?

I don’t know about you but I’m overwhelmed by long-term projects. I like quick and easy.

But ours is not a quick and easy calling, is it?

What’s more, we might not see the picture completed. At least, not in our days on earth.

I think of the faithful ones listed in Hebrews 11, the heroes whose stories we teach in Sunday School. Yet this is said of them:

All these people were still living by faith when they died.

I said it before: I like to finish what I start. Although my track record with that dwindles daily.

So it’s hard to imagine that anything I’ve started or been a part of in my lifetime might not come to completion or be finished in my lifetime.

Just a chapter later in Hebrews, Jesus is called the “author and finisher” of our faith (King James version).

So, maybe it’s not my job to finish, but just to do my part.

I will finish the cross-stitch picture. I hope to complete my novel this year.

My faith, this journey, may never be finished.

And I think I can be okay with that.

Ron Santo could teach us a lot about believing in faith

“Oh, no.”

My husband uttered those words minutes after waking up and per his usual morning routine, logging on to ESPN’s Web site for the morning’s sports news. Whenever he says, “Oh, no” I think something must have happened in our family or to a close friend or something. I forget that in some cases, sports is like family to him. “The Tribune is reporting that Ronnie died,” he said.

“Ron Santo?” I asked in disbelief. I knew that must have been who he was talking about. There are no other “Ronnie”s in our life.

Though I never met him, I felt a bit of grief come over me. And a longing to be in Illinois. I prefer to grieve with those who grieve and in Illinois we would find no shortage of baseball fans grieving this loss. In Pennsylvania, we might find a handful of fellow Cubs fans who will miss the fun Santo provided to radio listeners. Mostly, though, we will process this loss alone. And the grief may not be as heavy as it would be if we were in Illinois.

He wasn’t family or a close friend, so maybe it seems weird to be affected by his death, but anyone who listened to radio broadcasts of Cubs games felt a connection to Ron. His whole heart and soul was in every game, even if they were losing by 10 or mathematically out of the pennant race by July. He lived and breathed the Cubs. Now the Cubs will have to go on without him.

What saddens me most about his death is all the accomplishments he won’t get to see. He died without seeing the Cubs win a World Series. He died without being voted into the Hall of Fame. Those things may yet happen, but he won’t be around to celebrate them.

The Bible has its own “Hall of Fame” in Hebrews 11. The writer of the book lists people who accomplished great things for God, who suffered great things for Him. Yet, it says this about them: “These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised.” (Hebrews 11:39)

Seems unfair, right? To live a life of faithfulness and service and never see the end result.

Hebrews also says this: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (11:1) and “without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” (11:6)

Ron Santo epitomizes faith to me. I don’t know his personal beliefs about God, Jesus or heaven, but in terms of the Cubs, he had faith in the tough times. He never gave up on them. He faithfully did his job day after day, believing that someday the reward would come. Sure, he had his ups and downs. He was openly disappointed about the close calls, the failed seasons and the mistakes. But that didn’t stop his faith in the Cubbies.

I am a Cubs fan, but I don’t pin my hopes on them for anything. My hope is in the living God, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is infinitely more faithful than a sports team could ever be. (That feels like the world’s biggest understatement.) But I’m humbled by the faith of this baseball legend, wholly committed, fiercely loyal to his team. My faith in God should be as such, whether I ever see the reward this side of heaven or not.