It has been raining quite a bit lately here in Northeast Indiana. I will admit, I haven’t always welcomed it as it has often come down as a cold spring rain with gusty winds.
Yet, rain is important. It waters the earth, the crops, trees, and prairies, the oceans, lakes and rivers. If it were up to us to plan and control the weather, some of us would choose all sunny days where no rain ever occurred. Thankfully, we don’t have to rely on ourselves for the rain. God provides for that, as Leviticus 26:4 (ESV) states, “then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit.”
My weaving entitled Rain represents this. The ground is striped in earth tones to represent the land. The gray pleats along the top are rain clouds and the horsehair strands coming out of the pleats are the rain. It is a calm work, picturing soft spring or summer rains over fields and land.
Yes, it is the assurance that the earth will be taken care of by the sending of the rains. And yes, we also are to be good stewards of that process and not abuse or destroy the balance of earth/rain/sun. I find more than that here. I find the assurance that God cares for not just the land but for me as well. For example, Matthew 6: 28b-30, 34 (ESV) “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”
The work began as a “can I do this” exercise. While planning and weaving Rain, my thoughts were more on the execution of it and whether or not I could make it look like rain. Where was I going to source horsehair (a nice Shetland pony got a mane haircut). What sort of ground fabric was needed. I started out just wanted to see if I could weave something that looked like rain. Since its completion though, the message and presence of the weaving have connected with me on a deeper level.
Some weavings are like that. The weaving comes first and the associations later. Others, like my previous blog post on my kintsugi weaving, have the concept or associations come first and then I find a weaving to go with them. Either way, they come from the process of making and from what is inside of me. That is true of all my works and, whether you realize it or not, your works as well.