My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I let Him choose the colours
He worketh subtlety.
Oft times He worketh sorrow
and I within my heart
Forget He sees the pattern
While I see only the 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 room is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas,
And explain the reason why.
~Author Unknown
I let Him choose the colours
He worketh subtlety.
Oft times He worketh sorrow
and I within my heart
Forget He sees the pattern
While I see only the 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 room is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas,
And explain the reason why.
~Author Unknown
This is one of my favorite poems that I was introduced to in seminary some years ago. Zach and I were asked to speak about faith tomorrow and I've included it in my talk.
It's beautiful.
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