Trinity Sunday

My sister is an artist who uses a needle and thread to create works of art that adorn many houses other than her own. In my closet, there are needlepoint belts, and on a number of chairs there are beautiful pillows. At some point, she turned her creative talents to quilting and created one that lies at the foot of our guestroom bed. It is a masterpiece of intricate patterns and beautiful colors. If looked at from afar, it stands on its own as a beautiful quilt. One pattern fits into another, one color blends into the one beside it, so its hard to tell where one ends and another begins. If you draw close, however, you can see the individual pieces of fabric and specific colors.

It’s not unlike my sister herself. The hands that created the quilt are the hands of a sister, but they’re also the hands of a daughter, mother, wife, and friend. From afar, all I can see is a gifted woman working, but, drawing closer in my mind, I can see her different roles like pieces of fabric in a quilt. It is impossible to see where one role ends and another begins, and yet she is each of those people and one person whose so much more all at the same time. 

Too often, I sit in church and try to figure God out. I think that if I go often enough, and sit long enough, and think hard enough, I will eventually understand God. But, even in my determination, I know it’s a futile desire to comprehend the one who “surpasses all human understanding.” Today was Trinity Sunday, a day in which we celebrate the Father, Son and Holy Spirit as three in one. Even when thought of as creator, redeemer, and sustainer the math doesn't add up and it feels like I’m dividing God into boxes. God is the individual persons, the specific roles, and yet remains a comprehensive whole that's more than the combined parts. It’s impossible to see where one ends and the others begin. It all made me dizzy, so I decided to take a nap in the guestroom under my sister’s beautiful quilt.