There is a pattern. There is a rhythm. One into the other. One over the other. Not the same thread. Interwoven threads.
It’s not clear what’s going on at first. It seems a bit weird the dexterity of finger work and the patience required as sometimes it doesn’t always flow as it appears it should.
Yet over time there emerges what the work was for. Different threads, woven together over time. All strands together making more than the sum of its parts. Completely dependent on each other and together presenting something of beauty, something of warmth, something of style and of greater use than they were as individual threads. All because of the patient and tender work of the one who so beautifully knitted it together.
For His Name’s Sake
Shalom
C. L. J. Dryden
Life With CD 