Tuesday, December 27, 2005

God Bless the Tapestry Church

How fortunate we are to have the Tapestry Church. How fortunate we are to be a part of this movement (for it is god's plan, work, movement).

Listen to this story:

There was once a junkyard that stretched for miles and miles. It stretched so far that everyone who lived in the area couldn’t escape the smell of the rotting garbage. The owner of this junkyard had once built a gallery for beautiful art, but over the years, the garbage from outside overflowed through the door and covered the floor.

One day, the owner decided that he wanted to clean up the junk and shovel it all down into the pit. But, he decided that the people who made the mess should clean it up. And so he started to quilt a Great Tapestry that would inspire the residents to take out the trash. He hired a special curator to run the gallery and explain the tapestry’s message to anyone who entered the gallery. The curator always made sure to advertise the tapestry and put a spotlight on it at all times. With the help of the curator the tapestry glowed with light, even all through the night.

Then the curator had an idea to draw more visitors and speed up the process of cleanup. He allowed visitors to bring their own patch of tapestry and sew it to the Great Tapestry. And when dedicated quilters brought their patch to be a part of the tapestry, it became even more interesting and beautiful. The dedicated quilters came back to the gallery, time and time again to give glory to the tapestry and its original maker. Each time they viewed the complete piece, they received more and more meaning and understanding of the artwork. Visitors felt attached to the idea of the tapestry and began to quilt their own at home, to liven up their empty walls. They didn’t know this, but all the tapestries that were inspired by the first gave glory to the original artist. And the tapestries spread across the world and came to be known by all, and gave life to all who covered the walls with them and burned their junk.

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