Tuesday, May 19, 2009

My Life Is But A Weaving....

I have loved this poem since the first time I heard it used in a lesson years ago by my friend Diane. Thank you, Diane. From the first time I heard it it spoke to my heart but I had no idea it would be even more meaningful with the passage of years.....

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I let Him choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Ofttimes He worketh sorrow
And I, within my heart,
Forget He sees the pattern
While I see only 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 loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
~Anonymous~

1 comment:

Natalie said...

My dad gave us a copy of that poem shortly after Branson left us. It says it so beautifully, and as time continues to pass, I appreciate it's message even more. I look forward to the day when we'll be able to look back on the completed pattern and see how truly beautiful it is!
It was so good to see you both on Sunday.