The Divine Weaver

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My Life is but a weaving,
He does His work in me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow,
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the under side.

Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And reveal 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.

I do not know what next may come
Or what the morrow brings:
But with the glad salute of faith,
I hail its open wings!

B.M. Franklin (1882-1965)
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One comment on “The Divine Weaver

  1. Pingback: Check Out Our Other BLOG Post for Today! | Daily Goodies

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