My life is just a weaving (B. M. Franklin)

                                   

  My life is just a weaving 

Between my Lord and me.  

I cannot choose the colors 

He weaves so skillfully. 

                                    

Sometimes 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 Weaver’s skillful hands 

As the threads of gold and silver 

In the pattern He has planned. 

--The Weaver, B. M. Franklin, (1882-1965)   

Image source:  https://anniewald.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/weavingshuttle1.jpg

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