The Golden Thread

The Golden Thread I saw the Weaver carefully laying out the long strong threads that would hold the body of the fabric together. He had planned this creation and now He was bringing into fruition the vision He had seen in His minds eye. The strong threads would be the support and substance of the fabric and no short cuts were being taken to prepare these threads as the Weaver laid them upon the loom. I watched as the shuttle was now being passed through these threads and forthwith a beautiful fabric was beginning to appear before my eyes. The threads that were wrapped upon the shuttle were silk and now were being woven into the long sturdy strands. They began to make the fabric beautiful. The two threads intermingled now had form and substance. On their own they were only threads. Together they became something of value and beauty. I watched as the skilled Weaver applied the correct amount of pressure upon this cloth being birthed. His hands knew the threads and fibers so well, and He was able to make the fabric to perfection. I saw other colors now being added and mingled to the woven cloth. Each new thread added color and dimension and beauty. As each one was added the original two strands that were the core of the cloth only stood out more. Now the depth of color and the texture of the new additions were making the cloth breathtakingly beautiful. The Weaver knew each fiber and strand and added them to the loom to make His creation a thing of splendor. His skill was unquestioning. And I saw Him survey His masterpiece as it was completed. It was a thing of pure beauty.  A piece that proclaimed the Weaver's talents. All the colors blended so exquisitely, and the patterns in the cloth drew one towards it. Like a moth to a flame, enraptured in the beauty of the flickering fire, abandoned to all other sights, drawn to the magnificence. I looked at this fabric and wanted it. It spoke of quality and value. I watched again as the Weaver mulled over a vast selection of golden strands. All were slightly different. But the Weaver knew each one well. As He severed the textile He knew the strand needed to complete His work. The cloth was finished and usable as it stood. So beautiful already, that I feared the addition of anything would detract from the material. But the Weaver knew just how to add this thread. He skillfully stitched the golden thread into the fabric. It was being woven by hand into the existing beautiful material. My eyes watched closely and the Weaver continued to work His wonders. The golden thread turned this breath taking cloth into a creation of rare and extraordinary value. It was becoming priceless. A treasure for the likes of kings and royalty. The golden thread was woven amongst all the colorful strands. It touched each part of the pattern and blended into the fabric as though it had been upon the loom at the inception of the creation, instead of at the completion. This thread now being added was woven into the original strands with such skill that it entwined the strong threads that the rest of the creation was built upon. The golden thread was woven along side the original silken threads that the shuttle laid down. This golden thread unable to be of use on it's own was created for this very purpose. To adorn the solid beautiful fibers the shuttle had woven. It was now that I could see the Weaver's vision. It was now that I understood. For when I looked upon the creation with the new addition of the golden thread, I felt a tear fall softly to the ground. This was perfection. Pure beauty. A creation so lovely and rare few are privileged to see it. I looked up to see the loom and the Weaver, in this room. Beyond the small space where I stood I began to see looms laid out before me. Thousands, upon thousands, of looms, and skeins of silken threads filled this place. It was more than my mind could comprehend. I began to walk the isles and see the various cloths that the Weaver was working upon. Each fabric was unique, and beautiful. Each a masterpiece. But very occasionally I would spot a fabric with a golden thread running through it. And knew instantly that this cloth was one of the choice ones that was so rare to find. I returned to my spot and watched the Weaver as He worked upon His creation. I viewed the cloth He had produced upon the loom and tried to soak in it's pure beauty, fearful my eyes would not remember the beautiful individual strands that had been chosen to make up this fabric. I looked at it a long while, studying the texture and the shimmering beauty of the silk. I was transfixed to the spot, unable to take my eyes off the sight of the Weaver, and His creation. Finally He looked up at me, and spoke. Remember each thread is nothing more than a thread, until it yields to My touch and My will. It is then that it can be placed where it needs to be. It is then that I can turn it into a thing of beauty. You have been set apart for a time such as this, for you are a golden thread." I awoke to see the night sky above me. The moon was still full and the stars shone in the heavens above. The dream I had was fresh in my mind. And I began to ponder the meaning of it all. I sat up and added a log to the fire which had dwindled to coals and nearly gone out. But within a few short minutes the flames danced before me as they tried to reach their way towards the heavens. I looked at my watch and it was only 3am. Dawn was still more than two hours away, but I could no longer sleep. The vivid dream ran through my mind. The vision of the Weaver laying out the long strong threads upon the loom as He began His work, filled my mind. His hands moving the shuttle with the original silken strands that bound the cloth together. My mind saw an image flash before it. A picture of David and Ingrid filled my thoughts. David was the long strong threads, laid out upon the loom. His steadfastness and sturdiness was what all else could be built upon. And Ingrid was the beautiful silken threads first passed through the loom. She was the weave that held it all together. Her presence was paramount to the cloth taking shape. Without these two threads nothing more could be made or added. They were the foundation.   The picture of Ingrid's face filled my mind. Her happy smile and her sunny disposition could be seen in that snapshot that I now thought of. I saw David with his hand upon hers, as he was enveloped in an affectionate embrace. I smiled at the thought of them. I thought it curious that at 3am in the middle of the wilderness two people I do not know should be floating in my mind. But they were there, and I was happy to have met them. An understanding began to trickle into my muddled brain. Then the vision of the multicolored threads that were added. Each thread adding beauty to the cloth. Each thread was needed to complete the fabric. I saw the smiling faces of five wonderful children before me. They were those threads of color. Each one making the cloth more beautiful. I thought of this family so far away. Their lives already so knit together and so wonderful. They were themselves a fabric of such value to the world around them. Looking at it, it seemed to be complete and perfect already. This family needed nothing more, it was perfect as it stood. I then saw the cloth with the addition of the golden thread. And understood His plan for them. It was complete to be sure, but the golden thread for them was a sister/wife. She would be the little strand that took this family from stunningly beautiful to singular exquisiteness. From exceptional to priceless. The golden thread was missing. And it was only the skilled hands of the Weaver that could add this treasure to the existing fabric. I thought of so many things by the fire light. And felt His presence draw closer and again the tears spilled down my face. Around me lay His creation. The sounds of the loons calling on the lake filled my ears. Even the tree frogs seemed to be singing His praises. The sky was dotted with sparkling diamonds and the air smelled fresh and clean. What a wonderful world He had made. My life was such a gift. A gift I wanted to share with someone. I felt the ache of loneliness creep closer. But I smiled and once again told Him of my lonely heart, and asked Him to lead me. To bring to whom ever He would choose. I whispered to Him, "Not my will but Thine be done". But I was glad to have had the dream, and seen the beauty of polygamy in the context of the Master Weaver, the loom of life, and the people that can be woven together to make a masterpiece. Now the only question that remained was, who's golden thread would I be?

The beautiful person who wrote this and sent it to us was indeed a golden thread chosen for someone else's life. We very much love having been able to know her and having our lives touched and blessed by her.  May His hand of blessing always be upon her life. She will always be loved and fondly remembered.   Perhaps you too are a golden thread in the Master's hand that  He will weave into that exquisite fabric of some family's lives.

This page was last updated on: 1/14/03