Monday, August 15, 2011

New Beginnings

Today my husband of 3 months and 23 days begins medical school.  8 months ago I graduated my undergraduate university. 1 week and 1 day ago we moved to a foreign country, and so today it begins.  We have anticipated this journey for a long time, and yet know little of what to expect.  New beginnings come with hopeful naivety as we look onto a blank page of what now seems to be our life.  We are excited, we are homesick, we are young and we are confused.  


Writing a blog is something that goes against my nature.  I think it's strange.  But I wanted to start one to be able to process my own thoughts as well as encourage the other vagabonds like myself who are also young and searching for...we don't really know what.  I use the term "searching" carefully, as I believe that I have already found a purpose for my soul.  I wrote yesterday about how no matter what I feel and what my circumstance, my heart always knows that it's best hope is to turn to my father in heaven.  Yet, I believe that I am still becoming.  My "feeble hands and weak knees" are still looking for their job in this broken world.  I know that Jesus is at work in my heart, and each day I can grow closer to him if I so choose. 


The title of this blog goes along with a lifelong slogan that I have: everyday is a thread in the tapestry that is our life.  Today all that I may see is a thread of white in the field of 570 white coats before my eyes, but tomorrow I may only see a black.  I do not know why that color seems to last so long or why the threader threads the way he does.  But I know that I can look back and see different colors of days and see the picture beginning to form in the tapestry that has been my life, and it makes me so glad.
So today I see white.  Each day is a lesson.  I'll pray for insight and share more later. 


Definition of ikat: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/ikat



The Weaver

My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily.
Of times he weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
forget He sees the upper and I,
the under-side.
Not till the loom is silent
and the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas 
and explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful 
in the weaver's skillful hand
as the threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.

- Unknown

No comments:

Post a Comment