God's Thread

"An ill dread is hanging over me,
Slung on a single strand of cobweb thread.
I do not know how I can live today
The usual life of common duties, turn
A calm front to the day's perplexities,
A smile upon its small, persistent cares --
While inwardly a raging fear devours
Courage in mouthfuls; and my chariot wheels
Drag heavily; and gladness flies from me,
Leaving me standing shivering on the edge
Of unknown desolation; and all things
Look dark to me. O God, Thou knowest my fear;
Go not far from me lest trouble be near."

"An ill thou dreadest hanging over thee,
Slung on a single silken strand of cobweb thread --
Think: It is cobweb thread? No spider of chance
Spun that fine-twined thread from out herself
In blind obedience to some unknown law.
But I, thy God, thy Father, spun that thread
Whose very substance is My eternal will,
My eternal Love. And in My hand I hold
The further end and guard its whole long length
From human intermeddling. I may use
Some visible hand to operate and loose
The seeming ill; but I alone am He
With whom thou hast to do. And I, thy God,
The Father of Lights in whom no variableness
Nor shadow cast by turning ever was,
Am with thee, to be light to all thy days,
Even to the end. Therefore, thou wilt be strong
And more than conqueror; for I am here;
I go not from My own when trouble is near."
~Amy Carmichael