Tuesday, March 29, 2011

God's Embroidery

 
 
 
God asks for our trust.  When we don't understand life's circumstances, He wants for us to choose to lean into Him, to rest in Him, to find comfort in Him.  This is the hardest when we don't understand what in the world He is doing, and we can't understand why He is doing it. It is during the most difficult of times when He says that we shouldn't even try figure out our circumstances--just trust. Let God know that you know that He knows what He is doing--because He does!
 
 
 GOD'S EMBROIDERY 
by Dr. Jack Hyles
 
 
'Twas just a little wooden hoop
Her caring hands would clasp.
Some cloth, some thread, a needle's point,
As treasures she would grasp.
"What are you doing, Mother dear?"
My straying voice would cry.
"Embroidering," she answered clear,
With mothering reply.
"I must confess, 'tis quite a mess,
Oh, erring mother mine.
Why waste your day to idly play
With balls of tangled twine?
"Why, Mother, are the darkened strands
So mingled with the bright?
You hold some black threads in your hand;
Why can't they all be light?"
"My son," soothed Mother's smiling voice,
"Your view is from below.
When I am through I'll beckon you,
And then, you too, can know.
"You cannot see from 'neath my knee
What I can see from here.
So play awhile, my restless child,
And I will lift you near.
When Mom was done, she cooed, "My son,
Come sit upon my knee.
Come quickly, crawl upon my shawl,
It's time for you to see."
I soon found rest upon her breast,
To see from Mama's side
To my delight, a sunset bright,
A view I'd been denied.
"What wasn't known to you, mine own,
Is that another's hand
Had drawn for me to plainly see
A predetermined plan.
"The course I took, I ne'er forsook.
A wiser one's design
He'd placed a plan within my hand,
That was not really mine.
"Bright threads alone could not have shown
The beauty of the rays;
One must weave night with daytime light
Or know a glary haze.
 
"What was to thee, where thou could see,
A messy underneath,
Was from my eyes a sweet surprise,
A lovely evening wreath."
"What are You doing, Father dear?"
My aching heart doth sigh.
"Embroidered in my life I see
Some dark threads drawing nigh.
"'Tis messy too, from earthly view
That I know here below.
Don't weave my life with shadowed strife;
Please send me only glow."
I heard a loud, yet silent voice:
"Look up to Me, My child,
Just be about My business now;
I'll show you after while.
"You need the night as well as light
To make you hold My hand.
You need the dark as well as bright
To do My perfect plan.
"One day, twice born, I'll blow My horn.
And make you be as I.
I'll let you come to My own home,
Where you will never die.
"'Tis then you'll find, dear child of Mine,
My plan was always best.
Just trust, don't worry, doubt, or fret.
Come unto Me and rest.
"So trust Me now, though furrowed brow
Seems oft thine earthly plight.
I'll hasten near to wipe your tear
That falleth through the night.
"Just do My will and love me till
My face is in your sight.
Then you will se, 'twas best for thee—
Your Father's plan was right." 
 
 

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