The Spool

Day is like a golden thread,
Wound on a spool of silver.
Slowly through each hour,
It reveals its glowing shimmer.

Through each escaping second,
It weaves many simple pleasures,
That we all have come to cherish,
As a golden treasure.

Each hour, moment, day;
Is like that golden strand,
Used for many things,
By the Lord Almighty's hand.

The hours may slip by,
As many stitches are sewn,
The pattern not revealed,
Precious and unknown.

We might let a day slip by,
And forget about the spool,
But God is weaving a pattern,
And we are His weaving tool.

We are forced between the threads,
Knotted and twisted too,
But the Lord is the Master Weaver,
We don't know what He can do!

When life is at it's roughest,
Remember the golden thread,
Hear the Savior's whispered words,
I will do just what I've said.

He who began this work of art,
Within this heart of mine,
Will finish in His chosen hour,
His very appointed time.

Let me not forget,
The Master Weaver's plan,
As he daily tests my faith in Him,
In His mighty working hand.

Tonight, when all the lights are out,
The sun is dim and far,
Let me think upon the pattern,
Christ is weaving on my heart.

~Rachel Marie Bentham~

[ by: Rachel Marie Bentham Copyright © 2008 (bgbentham@yahoo.com) -- submitted by: Rachel Bentham ]