"the dark threads were as needful"

I got a poem the other day from another seminary teacher I work with. I'm not sure of its title or of its author, but here's the poem:

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I let him choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Ofttimes He worketh sorrow
And I, within my heart,
Forget He sees the pattern
While I see only part.

The dark threads were as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He had planned.

Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why.

There was an oil painting I did a couple of years ago, where I intentionally worked with only a couple of different colors, to be able to focus on the contrast of light and dark values. In a very compelling way, the darks made the lights stand out and vice versa.

Every time I look at the painting, I am reminded that in life, as in art, there is beauty found in contrast and opposition. Dark times make the good times more beautiful. There is purpose in pain. It plays an important role. When coupled with moments of joy and peace, it makes the masterpiece of our lives rich and deep and more beautiful than it would be if we only experienced one or the other. How could I fully appreciate the joys of life if I felt no pain along the way? Pain deepens our joys, and perhaps joy also deepens our pains.

So, today I'm grateful for the role of trials and challenges, and the way they add to the beauty of life.