Thought Tapestries

The Breaking crashed in like a midnight storm,
a monster of thunder that shattered the norm.
It tore through my plans with a merciless roar,
ripped open the roof I had bolted before.
No warning, no map, no lesson prepared—
I stood in the wreckage, eyes wide, unprepared.
Yet even in ruin, a strange light broke free,
for God, the great Author, was writing through me.

He penned every fracture, each blow of the night,
to pry open eyes that once feared the light.
No classroom, no training, no human design
could teach what the Master Composer had in mind.

Then came the slow, unremarkable days—
The Becoming—plain hours in ordinary ways:
coffee at dawn, fixing a hinge on the gate,
chatting with neighbors, staying up late.
No spotlight, no syllabus, no grand design—
just living itself, patient and kind.
Growth tiptoed in where growth had no name,
quiet as wildflowers after the rain.
All the while He was shaping, unseen,
weaving each moment in His sovereign plan.

Years slipped by, and then one clear morning
The Beyond arrived with a familiar warning—
the same low rumble, the same kind of test,
a storm on the horizon, just like all the rest.
But this time I smiled. I knew that old sound.
I’d met it before when I was knocked to the ground.
Only now I was steady, my hands calm and sure,
the lessons the Creator had quietly matured.
The monster that once left me broken and lost
was simply a chapter the Master had authored at cost.

I greeted The Beyond like an old, trusted friend,
turned its wild power toward a practical end.
No longer the wrecker, it bent to His will—
a bridge I could cross with a confident thrill.
For just past its crest lies an unknown bright shore,
an unimaginable future I’m eager to explore.
I don’t know each turn, but I trust what it brings—
the Master Composer still writes as He sings.

The Breaking once wrecked me.
The Becoming remade me.
And now The Beyond?
It’s the doorway He opened—
inviting me forward, excited to see
every path He has planned
between here and eternity.