khamneithang

instigating a life, one story at a time…

The Weaver

Beautiful SunsetMy life is but a weaving
between my Lord and 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 underside.

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

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2 thoughts on “The Weaver

  1. Very meaningful. Thanks for this.
    Peace

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