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The Quilt of Holes- Inspirational Story sent to me

The following story was sent to me by our friend, Peter Tram. It is one of my favorites. I don't know who wrote it, but its been around the internet for awhile.

The Quilt of Holes

As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls.
Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles; an angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life.
But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in every day life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.
I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and
the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened
My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.
Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose; each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise.
My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness, and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my world, as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured pai nfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.
And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was.
I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.
An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes.
Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, "Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles.
Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you."
May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through!
God determines who walks into your's up to you to decide who you let walk away, who you let stay, and who you refuse to let go."
  When there is nothing left but God that is when you find out that God is all you need.
 Father, God bless all my friends in whatever it is that you know they may need this day! And may their life be full of your peace, prosperity and power as he/she seeks to have a closer relationship with you. Amen.

Creation date: Jan 8, 2008 4:02pm     Last modified date: Jan 8, 2008 4:02pm   Last visit date: Nov 26, 2022 4:09am
2 / 1000 comments
Jan 9, 2008  ( 1 comment )  
Kathy Carr (kathy)
This is a favorite of mine too; in face it was given to me on my birthday by the Moms in Touch Leadership on my birthday a few years ago and it hangs in our office!  "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you."  Isaiah 60:1
Jan 15, 2011  ( 1 comment )  
Millye Fletcher (velvetone)
My mother wrote a lot of poetry years ago before she died. I found a hand written copy of "Quilt of Holes in with her poems. There is no name on the bottom and I just assumed that she wrote the poem. Lots of her poems she didn't put her name on them but we all knew when she wrote a poem,except of course the ones she wrote before we were born. But they were in her handwritting. I am NOT saying she wrote this poem, but I know that she had it in with hers. It is a beautiful poem and she did write many beautiful poems. I plan on having this poem read at my funeral when I pass on. My mother was a very talented person. She drew pictures and then painted them in oil, which she taught herself to mix the paint. All her children and lots of other people have her paintings. She could also play any musical instrument and what a singing voice she had. She also wrote most of her life story before she passed away.
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