I just scrunched up through the snow to the top of Eccles Pike. I was the only person out there in the world tonight. I like that. Sometimes I think I’m going to end up as a mad old woman living in a cave…

A metaphor popped into my head (like all the best ideas, this one comes with its own associated craft project.) This mess in my head- it’s like patchwork. You chop it all up, then spend hours arranging and rearranging the pieces, contemplating a scary number of choices, until you decide on the one way that you think you like best (or at least one you can live with.) And then the hard work begins, as you painstakingly stitch it all back together.

I just can’t work out what my design’s meant to be…



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2 responses to “pieces

  1. The classic (Christian) answer to that one is that you don’t know what the design is meant to be because you only see your pattern from behind, all the mess and mixed-up threads and so on…. then the Christian says that God sees it from the front, and sees how very beautiful it is going to be, even the dark bits mixed in! (Not preaching, honest – just saying the first thing that came into my head, as usual. Discard if unhelpful.).

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