To the mother in her unraveling
the one who is trying and feels unseen
This is for you.
Blue Threads and Broken Pieces
I once attended a Bible study where the teacher held a cord of rope.
She gave each of us two small pieces
bound tightly together
and asked us to sit quietly and unravel one.
When we finished, she told us to put the rope back the way it was.
We couldn’t.
She said, “This is how Jesus works.”
I broke down into tears as I unraveled each piece.
Knowing how useless I am without Him
Not my righteousness but God
God’s mercy, God’s grace
Keeping me whole
Because this is what I see:
Jesus gathers all the pieces of us.
He unravels what we’ve learned to carry alone.
He exposes what’s tangled, knotted, and hidden.
Not to leave us bare but to heal us completely.
We want to fix ourselves before coming to God.
He says, “Come as you are.”
And when we do, transformation begins.
There are parts of it that feel mismatched.
Broken places we have tried to repair, hide, or explain away, but still don’t fully understand.
There’s holiness in that tension.
Those pieces were never meant to be discarded.
They were meant to be surrendered.
So we bring them all of them to the Lord.
The pieces that make sense and the ones that don’t.
We give them to the God who created us whole and knows us as whole, even when we don’t feel that way sometimes.
The Tassels and the Blue Thread
In Numbers 15, God tells His people to wear tassels on the corners of their garments, woven with a blue thread.
Not for beauty but for remembrance.
Every movement was meant to whisper to remind us of who we are in Christ
The blue thread was woven into ordinary fabric
God doesn’t ask for perfect fabric.
He gathers loose ends, frayed edges, uneven threads, and ties them together with heaven’s purpose.
What feels mismatched becomes meaningful in the Potter’s Hands.
The Hem of His Garment
There was a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years.
(Matthew 9:20–22)
Tired.
Isolated.
Overlooked.
She believed one thing:
If I can just touch the hem of His garment, I will be healed.
That hem was the tassel
threaded with blue, a reminder of God’s covenant.
She didn’t come polished.
She came desperate.
Trembling.
But Jesus felt her.
Imagine the crowd.
So many bodies pressing in.
So many hands touching Him.
Yet hers was different.
Healing didn’t require her to have it all together.
Faith looked like reaching out with the little strength she had left.
The God Who Sees Me
(Genesis 16:13)
Hagar named Him El Roi, the God who sees me.
A Samaritan woman met Jesus at a well and was seen fully, without shame.
Her story.
Her past.
Her thirst.
God does not turn away from broken places.
He meets us there.
He Uses the Pieces
(John 8:1–11)
Another woman stood before Jesus
caught in sin, exposed, with no time to cover herself.
Caught red-handed.
I picture her clutching herself, gathering what little dignity she had left
holding onto threads of worth, if any remained.
Surrounded by stones.
Surrounded by voices of accusation.
Jesus said, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone.”
When He looked up again, they were gone.
“Where are your accusers?”
“Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”
Can you imagine how she felt?
Sure.
Redeemed.
Seen.
Tears of Love
(Luke 7:36–50)
A woman entered the room where Jesus sat.
She fell at His feet
the Hem of His garment
Her tears flowed freely,
washing His feet.
Her hair, tassels of thread,
pieced together as a towel.
She broke open a jar of expensive oil,
poured out without restraint,
anointing Him holy.
She had no business touching a Holy Man.
So they thought.
What others saw as waste,
Jesus saw it as worship.
What others called broken,
Jesus made whole.
Those tears brought healing to her heart.
Love poured out where forgiveness
had already begun.
Tied Together by Grace
I picture a woman
barely holding onto pieces
pieces of her past,
pieces spoken against her,
pieces whispered about what she has done,
pieces she tried to hide,
to keep together,
but failed miserably.
I see a mama clutching tiny threads, trying,
trying,
struggling,
crying silently,
forcing herself to do it all.
Broken.
Failing.
“Lord, can you hear me? I’m exhausted!”
She whispers, defeated.
But God says,
“Give them to me, Mama.”
“Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
He takes the threads, every single one.
And He makes something new.
Like a tassel,
held together piece by piece,
woven by love,
marked by grace.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing overlooked. God sees her. God loves her. God wants to use her right in the middle of the unraveling. Her willing heart. Your threads matter.
In the right hands,
In God’s hands.
God will meet you where you are, no matter how far gone you feel.
He only asks for a willing heart. ❤️
God does not wait for us to be reassembled before He receives us.
He does the reassembling.
His grace is woven into the fabric.
The pieces matter.
Jesus notices the trembling touch.
The silent tears.
The broken offering.
He is still the God who sees.
Still the God who heals.
Still, the God who meets us where we are.
God does not discard threads frayed by trauma,
by words spoken against you,
by seasons of survival.
He redeems them.
This is the inspiration
behind the Bible tassels I made
crafted in the apothecary shop,
woven from pieces that matter.
Be encouraged by the song
“Make Room” by The Church Will Sing (Community Music)
Shalom,
Following God’s Ways,
Natasha Chetty.
