“This is the year of firsts,” she said as she choked back tears. She was broken and my heart and voice turned tender as I asked her. “What do you mean, mom?”
The tears started then, slowly running down her face, and her lips trembled as she spoke the words. “This is the year that everything we do will be the first time without dad.”
His birthday had already come and gone, the first birthday without him, and we were quickly heading into the main holiday season. So I wasn’t too surprised when she called the day before Thanksgiving and told me she couldn’t do it.
Everything was different now, especially for her. After 48 years of birthdays, Thanksgivings and Christmas’, this year she was spending them alone, without him.
“I can’t go through with it!” she cried over the phone.
My heart ached for her as I tried to encourage her, and I stumbled over my words, searching and grappling for the right thing to say, anything that would soothe her hurting heart, even if it was just a little.
We talk about our Lord, and His love and how He had covered her so completely. And we talked about her family that loves her and has gathered around her, loving on her and supporting her. And she gathered her strength and she held on tight, and she celebrated Thanksgiving this year with her family there . . .
but it was the first without dad.
The Weaving
My life is but a weaving, between my God and me;
I do not chose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.
Not til the loom is silent, and shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas and explain the reason why
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful Weaver’s hand
As threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.
–Anonymous
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:21-23
The Portion of my Inheritance 
I love this poem about weaving-it is so beautiful!
It is beautiful ❤