The Weaver

Trust GodMy life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Oftimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.
Not til the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons 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.
He knows, He loves, He cares, Nothing this truth can dim
He gives His very best to those who leave the choice with Him. ~ Anonymous

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