Spinning

A few women were seated casually in a semi-circle, each one with a spinning wheel and a basket of wool rovings at her side.  Though there were several kinds of wheels, each spinner was engrossed in the same task:  Spinning wool into yarn.   Behind the women were sacks of raw wool, jars of dyes, and more tools and supplies of the art and craft of spinning.   The scene could have been lifted from a 19^th century cottage, but it was taking place under a big canvas tent at the Common Ground Fair near Unity, Maine.  Many of these spinners raised their own sheep, and that afternoon’s event showed the end result of the labor-intensive process that turns raw wool into finished yarn. The wheels rhythmically turned and turned, and long strands of thread appeared.  The work-worn hands of the spinners moved with grace, the movements automatic and efficient, the result of many hours spent with wool and wheel.  Hand spinning once was a necessity, but now spinning can be not only an interesting art, but an opening for prayer or meditation.  When your hands are busily employed in an automatic task, your mind is free to wander and to wonder.  The spinners’ bodies relaxed into the rhythm and in the busy tent, I sensed stillness and purpose in the simple pleasure of sitting and spinning.

It is the turning that fascinates me today.  Turning in one sense means heading in one direction, and then turning in a different way, or turning aside (I wrote about Turning Aside a few days ago). Turning also means turning towards something, and there are many faith stories of turning towards the light or turning towards another person to gain understanding or forgiveness. A turning, spinning wheel gives another meaning to turning with its constant motion. Spinning round and round could be a symbol of futility or confusion. That’s a familiar idea, spinning out of control. It’s easy to see examples of that this Lenten season, a Holy season that ironically arrived almost concurrently with a senseless war that is adding more tragedy to a world already reeling from the pandemic. 

Spinning wool into yarn, however, is not that kind of turning. It is not a random uncontrollable thing that leaves us dizzy and disoriented. The wheel turns and the wool turns with it, round and round in a smooth and consistent manner. The useful, evenly textured thread emerges in one long continuous strand.  Even when the fiber breaks, the skilled spinner can put it back together, rejoin the strands and continue the spinning.  On and on, the thread continues. There is a comforting sense of security and eternity in that process.

It would be naïve and simplistic to offer neatly packaged “life lessons” on how to regain equilibrium or blithely spout a Love conquers all solution for our tangled heap of a world. Many threads of ordinary life have broken, and repairing damage is an arduous task.  As a woman of faith, I search for meaning and hope, and surprisingly, I find it in spinning.  Spinning is not about separation and brokenness, but about putting things together.  It is about taking something rough and unformed and creating something strong, pliable, and useful.  Spinning may seem like a solitary process as one person sits before one wheel, but it is not.  It is a partnership among many who turn, turn, and turn, and turn again, towards God who does not leave us comfortless, and God who provides not one, but many methods of repair, threads as numerous as the people of this earth. In our tangled heap of a world, God spins a seamless, eternal thread of wisdom and courage, and yes, of Love. Many centuries ago, Paul wrote to Christians who, like us, needed encouragement and strength during heart-rending times:

I have become absolutely convinced that neither death nor life, neither messenger of Heaven nor monarch of earth, neither what happens today nor what may happen tomorrow, neither a power from on high nor a power from below, nor anything else in God’s whole world has any power to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord!  Romans 8:38-39 Phillips Modern English Bible

Today’s tile is a watercolor pencil drawing of a triskele, an ancient Celtic symbol of three joined spirals.  In Christianity, it is a symbol of the Trinity, and of birth, death and rebirth. It reminds me of three spinning wheels joined by a continuous line that flows from one to the other without a break. The wheels make many turns, and from that turning something emerges, the Thread that holds the world together.

April 8^th tile was about soaring, and today’s is about spinning. Our life in the Spirit is always moving!  How can your faith enable you to turn, and turn, and turn again towards the Light of the World?

I pray that I am sufficiently stirred by the rumor of great things to seek the God who created this single thread that I am, and to marvel at a vision magnificent enough to cause this God to weave from this single thread a tapestry most resplendent. ― Craig D. Lounsbrough,  An Intimate Collision: Encounters with Life and Jesus