Thursday, January 26, 2006

The Weaver

The Weaver
My life is but a weaving Between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colours, He worketh steadily.
Oft-times He weaveth sorrow,
And I, in foolish pride
forget He sees the upper,
And I the under side.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern he has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares
-Nothing this truth can dim;
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice with Him.

A friend is facing some testing tomorrow and she has been in my thoughts and prayers.
My hopes are that these tests are just the threads that binds her family closer, her friends nearer and her faith will grow and sustain her during this time of uncertainty.

2 comments:

Monica said...

Tara Marie - will keep your friend in my prayers.

A few years before I adopted Mikey, I went through a very severe bout of depression. It was a horrible, dark time for me. In the middle of it all, someone gave me this poem and I have kept it in the front of my Bible since. At the time, I didn't understand the dark threads that were being weaved into my life but can honestly say today that I would not be where I'm at without having lived through all of that. It was through coming out the other side that I learned that I truly did have the power within me to take on my life-long dream of adopting and to do it as a single parent. Those beautiful threads of black mix so very wonderfully with the yellow that Mikey brings to my life!

Tara Marie said...

Those black threads are so powerful, but truly define the tapastry of life. This friend is also a friend of yours,,,,my thoughts have been on Annette all week long.