The Weaving and The Weaver
My life is but a weaving between the Lord and me
I may choose the colors, but He works steadily
Often there is woven sorrow and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper and I the underside
Not til’ the loom is silent and the shutters cease to fly
Shall God unroll the weaving and explain 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
revised from
Author Unknown
Exquisite indeed!