It's always been there. I just haven't always noticed it. It's thin, this thread. So thin that it often seems to disappear. But it is indeed there. It's always there. It runs through every single event in my life. From before I can even remember. It always appears bigger in the past than it does in the present. That's how I first noticed the thread. By looking back. The thread's relation to a moment becomes clearer the further it moves back into history. In the moment of now its actions seem random. Movements chaotic. Behavior nonsensical. Patterns nonexistent. But give it some time. 

It runs through every single event in my life. Each event its own fabric. It holds them together. It holds them up. It's thin but it's strong. It can hold a lot of weight. It organizes my history – every piece – into a woven quilt of meaning. It's a magic thread. It creates beauty where there is none. Purpose where there's pain. Meaning where there's monotony. Significance where there's struggle.

But I'm not special. I don’t have this thread all to myself. It runs through every single event in your life too. Maybe you've never seen it. Try looking back for it. It's often too thin to see it in the now. But if you pay attention to your past – to your story – you may be able to trace it out. It's there. It's always been there.

But you're not special either. This thread runs through every single event in history. It holds them together. It holds them up. It's strong, this thread. And it's there. It's always been there. Before you. Before me. There was this thread. And it has lofty goals. It's magic. Not just for my story. For all stories. Its goal is to weave all of history together into something beautiful and breathtaking. 

Its scandalous, this thread. History is over-stuffed with fabrics so ugly and vile. So random and disconnected. So painful and hopeless. Does the thread really think it can make something good out of that material? It's impossible they say. And with this claim they lose sight of the thread altogether. It disappears from the present and the past.

 But it's still there. And it's busy. Busy with its lofty goal of tying heaven and earth back together. Yes, weaving the place of God's dwelling back into the place of man's sinning. Let's lay the metaphor bare: the thread is God's presence. His purpose. His posture towards us. His loving pursuit of those who run from Him.

When I was born into a loving family, He was there. When my parents brought me to church, He was there. When I refused to accept my imperfections as a young boy, He was there. When I was terrified of thunderstorms, He was there. When I was confronted with the reality of my sin, He was there. When my hero betrayed our family, He was there. When I was trying so hard to be cool and fit in, He was there. When I thought I had life all figured out, He was there. When I realized I didn’t, He was there. When I was sick and tired of trying to earn God's approval, He was there. When I got married, He was there. When I was a terrible husband, He was there. When we were way too busy, He was there. When my wife was depressed, He was there. When we moved to a new city with no jobs and no friends, He was there. When we had our son, He was there. He's always there.

Surely your story is different than mine. But the same thread. When you were born into a loving family, or an unloving family. When you tried to be perfect or tried to be the worst. When you were scared or brave. When you were hurt or healed. When you were affirmed or betrayed. When you were a fit-in or an outcast. When you got married or divorced. When you were a terrible person or a goody-two-shoes. When you were abused or an abuser of others. When you were happy or sad. When you ran away or came back home. When you didn’t know who you were or were too stubborn to change. He was there. He was always there.

God is a pursuer. The thread is a weaver. And it's magic. Things meant for evil are transformed into good. Yes, even the most wicked, vile, heinous things. Even those putrid fabrics are weaved into the finished product. And it will be beautiful. No one will deny it then. When all is said and done.

But how did the needle get here? How did it find its way into the fabric of history? If you know a thing about threads, it's that they always follow needles. And this thread's needle first pierced a unique fabric. It was the worst event in human history. An innocent man was violently executed. A man who is also God. Wicked people hated this God-man and sentenced Him to death. A terribly ugly fabric. It was the best event in human history. God Himself came to rescue the world. His life full of perfectly beautiful events is now our story. His bloody crucifixion is now our ransom. His step out of the grave is now our hope. A stunningly and blindingly gorgeous fabric.

The needle first pierced Jesus so the thread can do its work.