"The Weaver"
My life is but a weaving
between the Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors
that he worketh steadily.
Of times he weaveth sorrow
and I in foolish pride,
Forget he sees the "upper"
and I the "underside".
Not till the loom is silent,
and the shutters cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas
and show the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
in the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim,
He gives His very best to those
who leave the choice with Him.
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Email: lovechild@unforgettable.com
