Part of my life was visiting a Tapestry Works with an Great Uncle - a place where he and my father worked. I was impressed with the looms and the way th shuttles moved and how the colours were woven to form the complete picture.
This is something that I wrote about that:
IN THE HANDS OF THE WEAVER.
How wise it is we cannot see
What lies ahead in store,
For I believe we would not dare
To venture through that door.
Time passes and the days go on
And drift into another week,
While we continue in our struggle
And courage daily seek.
We go through times when life is calm
And days are peaceful and sweet,
But there are days when we falter
And wonder just what we will meet.
Changes come suddenly and we wonder
Just how to play the game,
But they are changes nonetheless
And we are never quite the same.
I look at my life as the shuttle flies
And the picture starts to evolve,
And I know that the maturity given
Will help this situation resolve.
We are all in the hands of The Weaver
And the shuttle flies, year after year
Sometimes we see the colours
And sometimes the picture is not clear.
Sometimes we are forced to stop,
To step back and view the scenes
It is then the we see the colours
And just what this picture means.
We see the blues, and yellows
Greens and startling pink
And it is this stopping and looking
Which really makes us think.
So rest in the hands of The Weaver
And just know that all will be fine
We should always rest and remember
That this is His design.
“The dark threads are as needful
In the skilful weavers hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern he has planned.”
Linda J. Vaughan
August 23rd. 2002
Love and hugs,