© 1994 Paula Garrett Thompson
I am a woman.
I have conspired with eternity,
Fraternizing with the infinite creative forces
to bring LIFE into existence.
I have suffered to bring it.
I have nurtured it
and tenaciously kindled its precious flame.
I cannot turn my back on it
nor say it came not through me.
I know from whence it came.
I will take responsibility for i.
Though I may often bear this yoke alone,
I will not betray this trust.
This LIFE I have given the world
permeates my being.
I would sooner have the living heart torn from me
than to see it suffer or die.
Ask not then why I abhor the futility of war,
or disgust the advent of violence.
These things represent only the unthinkable pain
of a sister’s greatest loss.
The thought of which makes me shudder in bitter fear,
though I think myself courageous.
A loss that would reduce even the strongest woman
to a quivering mass of anxiety.
The pain of it reverberates to every woman
from every woman who ever had to bury her heart
in the comfortless cold of the Earth.
A woman’s heart is full of the reality of LIFE,
the respect of LIFE,
and the love of LIFE,
for we have carried LIFE
and brought it forth upon the Earth.
The Eternal God has gone in partnership with us,
LIFE’s earthly guardians.
Think not that women are weak,
nor judge us when you see a tear in our eye,
but remember,
everything we do
or say
or think
is in some way conditioned
by our responsibility for LIFE.
Fear not,
for the hand that holds eternity holds also you.
The thread is not lost to the weaver,
nor is the drop lost to the ocean.
Neither can they be separate
lest they lose their purpose of existence.
The drop alone has no power,
but the ocean is mighty.
The thread alone gives no warmth,
but the garment is useful.
If, then, you are but a drop in the ocean,
rejoice that you are as necessary as all other drops.
If you are merely a thread in the vast fabric of creation,
rest assured that you too are an integral part of the
grand tapestry of life.
Know in your very fiber that the light that lit you
loves you as Itself.
For you are truly alive in the infinite love of the creator,
and the flame of eternity burns within you.
Heavenly Father,
this my prayer to you:
Let me finish the work that I have to do.
Then when at last my work is done,
grant me the rest I’ve so willingly won.
Take care of us Father,
for in our fear
we fail to keep sight of the things we hold dear.
We allow life’s trifles to distress us so.
It seems we’re the prisoners of what we don’t know.
Oh Wondrous Creator,
my petition is small.
Let me stay here until I’m not needed at all.
Then when at last my seeds have been sewn,
spare me the darkness of being alone.
For when you need my help Lord,
I will do whatever I can.
I will be there willing to lend a helping hand.
And as long as I can serve a purpose that is true
I will say this my prayer, my Lord, to you.