'Holes In My Quilt'
As I faced my Maker…at the time of judgment
I knelt…in front of my Lord…with others there… along side of me.
In the distance hanging… on golden lines
Quilts…some as beautiful as beautiful could ever be.
My pile of squares now lay in front of me
As an Angel… took each piece to sew.
But mine were quite ragged and lacking color
And filled… with giant holes.
Each piece had written… labels on them
Indicating parts of my life…that had been difficult.
The challenges and temptations…I faced everyday in my life
Each one now…the Angel took.
I glanced around…and no one else had squares like mine
Other than a tiny hole… here and there.
Threadbare and filled with holes
Was mine… as I gazed upon each square.
Finally the time came when each life was displayed
Held up to…Heaven’s holy light.
The scrutiny of the truth…
In each viewed…tapestry
Those faded…ragged patches… of my life.
My gaze dropped to the ground in shame
Of all earthly fortunes… had.
Yet love and good health… were some of mine remembered
Which made me feel proud… and yet so sad?
I had spent many a night… on my knees
Asking God for guidance in my life.
To muster up the strength I needed
To be a better servant…a better mother…a more loving wife.
While I stood and lifted…the combined squares of my life to the light
The light filtered through each hole
There viewed was the face of Jesus Christ.
For all present to behold.
Then our Lord stood before me
With warmth and love in His eyes.
“Every time you gave your life over to me… my child
Each point of light…was when you stepped aside.”
“Allowing my light to shine through
Until there was more of me… than you.”
May all God’s children’s quilts… be filled with holes
Allowing the light of Jesus Christ… to shine on through.
By: Linda Winchell
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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