Just A Thought – August 1, 2019
August 1, 2019
Just A Thought – August 2, 2019
August 2, 2019

Awesome August

August is the eighth month in our year. It’s also the birthday month of our middle grandson, already a teenager and ready to add another year to his growing number! Originally, the month of August was named Sextilis in Latin on the ancient Roman calendar but in 8 BC the name changed to August in honor of Augustus Caesar.

I hope you’re ready for an enjoyable and awesome August. And, as you read Part 2 of The Fabric Of Dreams, you’ll recall The Weaver was pondering the vivid dream he just experienced.


Three days earlier he received a unique invitation for a specialized craft show scheduled for the next month. Very rarely did he participate in any craft fairs. He didn’t like the haggling that went on to try selling artistic wares. In fact, he rarely put a price on his pieces but he always received more than he anticipated or felt it was worth. He saw the invitation to participate but had tossed it on the wooden table in his kitchen. He really wasn’t interested, yet for some reason he hesitated tossing it into the trash.

As hard as he tried to dismiss the craft show, the invitation beckoned him throughout the day, calling to him like a friend, urging him to go. He really didn’t want to participate in it. He had better things to do with his time. And so once again, he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He would concentrate on his new piece today. Finally the thoughts engulfed him to the point that he could no longer work on this new piece.
In an attempt to stop these torturing thoughts, he stepped away from his loom, walked into his kitchen, grabbed the invitation, and decidedly tossed it into the fireplace. Quickly he added a burning match to it. With satisfaction he turned and marched back to his loom.

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Carrie’s week had started off well with her class of youngsters. They were eager to learn but still had too many wiggles in their bodies to stay still for any length of time. She was always challenged to keep them more than entertained. She wanted them to enjoy learning, have fun in discovering new things, and be confident in attempting new things. By the time she went to bed that evening she was exhausted and immediately fell asleep. She’s not sure when the same scene unfolded in her dream, but she was once again drawn into the darkness after the bursts of fireworks. Very quickly the colorful bursts ceased as the crescendo fell to the ground. This time Carrie thought that the worst was behind and for the first time in a very long time, she felt a hint of peace even in the darkness that still surrounded and troubled her.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

The Weaver continued working on several pieces throughout the next week on different looms. People were waiting for the orders they’d placed online, and he needed to complete them. He was always amazed when his work was acclaimed as truly glorious and so touching. Many of his clients were shocked at the deep emotion they felt when they saw the finished work. Most of the time he didn’t know the background of each client; he only knew a name associated with an order. His clientele grew by word of mouth from more than satisfied customers. The Weaver always created exactly what they wanted even without giving him any specific suggestions as to what they wanted or envisioned. He knew what he had created for each of them was exactly what the family needed. It had happened over and over again. He still didn’t understand the nature of his own work, the depth of his own gifting. He saw pictures in his mind, and he felt deep things associated with the client when creating the tapestries.

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Carrie was so ready for the spring break. She needed to catch up on household chores she’d put off. She needed to catch up on her reading. There were so many things she wanted to do. When she read about the coming craft show, she was immediately drawn to it. She enjoyed seeing people’s creative abilities, but she hated the crowds. She decided she would make herself go, and that she would enjoy herself. She had to get out of the house, away from memories, the sadness, and the horrible darkness that still plagued her dreams. She needed something to pick her up, although she’d been feeling less apprehensive.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

He sat at his loom waiting for inspiration to enter his fingers so he could finish this one particular piece. He was still stuck at the same place, where the falling bursts of lights were enveloped by the shrouded darkness. He waited, slowly at first, and then his fingers danced over the loom uniting the woof and warp at record speed, creating new sensations, and a new message. He knew his work on this piece was nearly completed. He hadn’t considered its outcome until he saw it. Indeed a picture is worth a thousand words he thought. He felt a release of the stress and pressure, of sadness and remorse as he studied his own work. There was always a release when he finished a work, but this release was deeper. This picture spoke of deeper things; things he didn’t really totally understand himself.

He took a deep sigh and put the finishing touches on the tapestry. It was complete now. He also knew it should be displayed at the craft show he hadn’t planned on attending.

He made a quick phone call.


Part 3 Continues Next Month.


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