Stitches, one after another, become the fabric, the stuff of life.
The hands of the artisan grow old and slow, and still the pattern unfolds.
Changes come, direction reversed, and the stitches are altered.
No matter; they yet follow what’s been woven before.
The hands falter; the count is lost. With a glance back, the pattern is recalled.
Dropped stitches picked up, the passage ahead is clear once more.
Through the whole of our lives the fabric is crafted, with integrity, one would hope.
But, with or without, the cloth unfolds, one day to become the narrative of a life.
What will be read in my history? Perhaps the tale will be a warm wrap, shielding from the numbing cold.
But then again—as likely—a rag, suited only to mop up filth. Choices today determine utility tomorrow.
Stitches, one after another, become the fabric, the stuff of life.
The hands of the artisan grow old and slow, and still the pattern unfolds.
The righteous who walks in his integrity–blessed are his children after him!
(Proverbs 20:7 ~ ESV)
Do you desire to construct a vast and lofty fabric? Think first about the foundations of humility. The higher your structure is to be, the deeper must be its foundation.
(Saint Augustine ~ Ancient Christian theologian, Bishop of Hippo ~ 354-430)
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2016. All Rights Reserved.