Threads: The Unseen Tapestry of Life

By Monica Lanigan

John James O'Leary should have been happy. He had a beautiful wife and two children. His second novel was doing well, and his publisher was eager for a third. But his mother's recent death created an emptiness despite his success. He wanted more, but he didn't know what it was or how to get it. His father was living alone on the West Coast, and John James wondered if he should ever have moved to New York. When his world unexpectedly shifted, he needed a lifeline to keep him from drowning in his circumstances. How could he take the shattered remains of his life and create something meaningful? How could any good come from so much pain?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098008789

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Threads

The Unseen Tapestry of Life

Monica Lanigan

Copyright © 2019 by Monica Lanigan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

To all the people who may think their lives have no meaning. May God reveal to you the beautiful tapestries you create as you touch the lives of those He places in your path.

Thank you, Josephine Kostusiak, for creating such a beautiful image of a tapestry. You captured the spirit of this book and transformed it into a work of art.

Foreword

My dad was a volunteer firefighter and chaplain at a department in a small Iowa town. Some of my best memories were hearing the calls come through on his pager and then jumping on my bike to furiously pedal to the scene of the emergency. Watching the fire trucks scream by and the men and women scramble to their specific tasks and save the day was a thrill.

Our family lived just in back of the local fire station in our small town so my younger brother and I experienced the sights, sounds, and smells of station life. My dad also pastored a small church in town and responded to other emergencies.

God called me to follow in my dad’s footsteps and I became a pastor as well. It’s been a joy to serve my friends at Daybreak Community Church in the northwest suburbs of Philadelphia for the past 10 years. I think of myself as just a regular guy who loves his beautiful wife and five amazing kids, cheers for all the Philadelphia sports teams, drinks too much coffee, watches too many YouTube videos, and just happens to be a pastor. I am not a volunteer firefighter, but I know someone who is!

Monica Lanigan visited our church for the first time about 6 years ago. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as joy-filled and eager to serve others as my friend, Monica. As a church, we celebrated with her when she recently passed her fire training and became certified as a firefighter. She recently shared her life story with our congregation. I wish you had been there to hear it because for Monica joy is choice. You see, her life hasn’t been easy. It’s not like God has just sprinkled fairy dust all over her and everything has just been a stroll through the park. I have so much respect for Monica as she’s gone through difficult seasons of life with open hands asking God for His provision, His direction, and His strength. She seeks to follow Jesus in everything she does.

I think that’s the case for most of us, right? The struggle is real. Life is full of highs and lows. Hey, even pastors aren’t exempt! I’ve asked the same questions you’ve probably asked. Is it worth it? Am I doing what God wants me to do? Am I where God wants me? What difference is my life really making? It seemed like everyone was dozing off during today’s sermon—is it me, Lord?

Books like this gem that you’re holding in your hand right now usually aren’t on my reading list. Leadership resources, counseling manuals, best practices, biographies, church history, theology, and devotionals are the ones that line my shelves. So, when I was asked to read this one from my friend, Monica, I honestly thought—is this just going to be a waste of time? How am I going to benefit from this book? I’m just being honest!

I was surprised by how much I actually enjoyed this read. Monica has a creative way of painting a picture of the setting—I felt like I was right there. It’s also told in a way that moves in and out of the present while flashing back to significant events from the past. But what I really appreciated was the message of the whole story. One of the characters in the story you’re about to read says, Maybe your life isn’t falling apart; maybe it’s falling into place. Maybe you are exactly where you’re supposed to be and you’re here for a reason. Oh how I needed that reminder and I think you might as well!

Threads challenged me to up my game in relation to living out Jesus’ new command—to love God and love people (Mark 12:30-31). I was created on purpose for a purpose. Am I living my life in such a way to positively impact those in my spheres of influence? There are many times when I live for me, myself, and I. Too many hours are spent in my office and I miss opportunities to connect with others. If I could zoom out, would I be pleased with the number of threads tethered to my life through Christ?

So, get ready for a fun story that will have you asking these important questions and others! I’m so proud of my friend Monica who has allowed God to use her and her gift of writing to point many to Jesus! Enjoy!

Pastor David Hakes

Daybreak Community Church

Royersford, PA

Chapter 1

Patrick, we’ve gone through all the aisles two times. Come on, buddy, you need to pick a costume.

Patrick was dwarfed by the high racks in the aisles of the pop up Halloween costume store. Every fall, an otherwise empty storefront was transformed into a magical wonderland full of possibilities. A child could be anything they wanted to be, from a scary monster to a fairy princess. Nothing was out of the question. Parents and children alike were energized by the opportunity to be someone else, even for just one night.

The walls were black to add an eerie ambiance. The sounds of metal chains clanking and evil cackling laughter rang out over the sound system, along with eerie harpsichord melodies floating in the air around them. Pumpkins and skeletons with glowing eyes watched the customers as they made their way through the store, if they dared! Mwahahaha!

Patrick frowned as he turned the corner for the third time, hoping to find what he’d missed before. It had to be there. In his four-year-old mind, all you had to do was imagine it and it would exist. So where was it?

John James felt the vibration of his phone. He pulled it from his coat pocket and read the message from Mr. McMillan his publisher. They wanted to set up a meeting to discuss his next book. John James’s heart sunk, and he let out a sigh. He had two books published in as many years, and he just didn’t know if he had another in him right now.

Lately, New York was getting to be too much. He enjoyed it all when he and Erin first moved there from LA. Everything was so fast paced and exciting. Now, after living there for almost ten years, it just felt like a treadmill in high gear that he couldn’t stop.

Erin was home with Rosie, their oldest. She got sick in school, and Erin had to leave work to pick her up. She had promised the kids they would go to get costumes after school. Erin asked John James if he could pick up Patrick from preschool and take him to the costume store. She could take Rosie over the weekend, but Patrick had done nothing but talk about getting his costume for days. She didn’t want to disappoint him.

John James had just landed in JFK after his book signing in Texas when he got her message. He was excited to get the chance to pick up Patrick and get some father/son bonding time. The opportunities were so few and far between that he savored any one he could get. He hailed a taxi at the airport, and he managed to get to Patrick’s school only ten minutes late.

Patrick was standing with a group of other children on the front steps of the school. They looked so small as they came into view, just babies really. He was stunned to realize the young girl standing with them was the teacher. Suddenly, he felt old, even though he was only in his thirties himself. The taxi waited as John James signed Patrick out.

Thank you, Mr. O’Leary. Have fun at the costume store, Patrick, Miss Bluett waved as Patrick ran toward the taxi.

Patrick was talking a mile a minute as they stopped and started in the Manhattan traffic. His brown hair was mussed, and the cowlick at the back of his head had burst free from the hair gel Erin had plastered on it in the morning. Patrick excitedly caught John James up on his day at school and the two days at home since he left on his trip.

Apparently, Rosie was sneezing a lot yesterday and even sneezed on his dinner plate. That was when Mommy suddenly took it away and got him a new one. One of the kids at school tried to shove a pretzel up his nose and had to go to the nurse. His teacher said they were going to have a Halloween party at school, and he wanted Mommy to make cupcakes for his class.

John James laughed as he went on and on with such enthusiasm and animation. He made his life seem like a huge adventure. Now, as he scanned the layers and layers of costumes, his little face was becoming much more serious.

Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for so I can help?

Patrick frowned. He wanted it to be a surprise. He wanted everyone to be proud of him for finding it all by himself. But maybe he did need some help. Daddy would be able to find it!

I want a Mom Mom Fighter costume, he smiled.

A what? John James asked, confused by his response.

A Mom Mom fighter, he said with emphasis. Surely Daddy knew what he meant.

John James replayed Patrick’s answer over in his head, trying to interpret its secret meaning. He adjusted his thought process to the level of a four-year-old and ran it through one more time without success at breaking the code.

I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t know what a Mom Mom fighter is. Is it a new cartoon? He knew he missed a lot, traveling so much. It was the fall, maybe a new show had just come out.

Patrick looked disappointed. Of all people, Daddy should get it. A Mom Mom fighter! You know, like Pop Pop.

A lump formed in John James throat as the revelation hit. Not a day went by when he didn’t think about her, when he didn’t miss her. But he didn’t realize Patrick thought about her too. All of a sudden, everything and everyone around them disappeared, and all he could think about was how much he loved this child and how much she loved him. A wave of regret washed over him as it had so many times before. He shouldn’t have kept the kids on the opposite side of the country where she could only talk to them on the phone or see them during a video chat. She should have been able to see them and hug them every day and enjoy them and love them as only she could.

It was just a little over a year. All the images flooded back. Holding her hand one last time. Her last words to him. I love you too, my angel. The empty look in his dad’s eyes the day he packed up Erin and the kids to head back to New York. Just last week, when Rosie lost her first tooth, he instinctively picked up his phone to call her, ’til reality came crashing in.

Patrick was looking up at him with eyes filled with hope. Daddy would be able to find it. John James smiled down at him and took his hand; now he knew what they were looking for. They walked back to the kid’s section and searched. Princesses, super heroes, cartoon characters, soldiers, grim reapers. John James stood in the middle of the aisle and looked up and down as confused by it all as Patrick. There must be some mistake. Or maybe it was just sold out.

Can I help you? A girl in a long black witch costume, complete with green makeup on her face and a gray frizzy wig, asked as she approached.

Where are the Mom Mom fighters? Patrick boldly asked, even as he held John James hand a little tighter.

The girl looked to John James for interpretation. She was momentarily distracted as she took a good look at him. He was handsome. He had wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. He looked to be over six feet tall. He was dressed in an expensive suit and coat. Maybe he was a lawyer or maybe even an actor. Whatever he was, he was easy on the eyes.

He means firefighter costumes. His grandmother is…was a firefighter. Patrick looked up at him with a wide grin.

The girl looked at him as if he had two heads. The words grandmother and firefighter didn’t compute in her young mind. She thought she had heard it all, but this was a new one. She couldn’t wait to tell Chuck when he got back from his break.

I’m sorry, we don’t have any firefighter costumes. But we have superheroes! The girl seemed to be satisfied that she was providing an equal or better alternative.

John James and Patrick both had the same frown on their faces. Thank you anyway, but we really want a firefighter costume. He and Patrick quietly made their way to the front of the store and left the building.

Erin closed her laptop for the night. She didn’t like to bring work home, but she wanted to send out the e-mail she was writing when the school called. Rosie was finally asleep. Her fever was down, but she would still need to make a trip to the doctor tomorrow just to make sure it wasn’t another ear infection. It was times like these when she was grateful she only worked part time since the kids were born. Especially since John James was traveling so much. It was hard not living near family. The two of them never realized how good it could be until the kids came along.

Early on, it had been the adventure of a lifetime, packing what little they had and traveling across the country to the great unknown. John James used to laugh and say that he was just coming full circle since his mother was originally from the East Coast. They had enjoyed it for a long time, but now the kids were getting bigger. Living in an apartment, no matter how big it was, wasn’t the same as having a real home.

Erin grew up in a house in LA that had an in ground pool. She and her brother used to swim, or play in their yard, or at the playground with the kids on their block. She wondered if maybe they were robbing Rosie and Patrick of something special. They talked about moving out of the city to Queens or Brooklyn. They even looked at a few houses, but nothing ever seemed right.

She had been feeling homesick for a long time now, but she didn’t want to bring it up to John James. He was already dealing with so much. She didn’t know how he found the strength to start his book tour just three months after Rose’s death. It seemed like none of them had had the time to really deal with it and heal. Whenever the pain surfaced, they would just push it down and keep moving forward. John James was always excited to call his dad, but once the call was over, his face would fall, and he would get withdrawn for a while. She was worried about him. As she looked at him now, he seemed quiet.

Are you okay?

He was lying in bed beside her, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the TV, his black wavy hair still damp after his shower. The channel stopped on the local news. They were running a story on a fire in Manhattan. The video showed firefighters climbing ladders and pulling hose lines into the building as smoke poured