IN THE HANDS OF THE WEAVER.

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,