Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A Favorite Poem


My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me:

I did not choose the colours - He worketh steadily;

Oft times He weaveth sorrow, and I, in foolish pride

Forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.

But when the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly,

Then He’ll unroll the weaving and explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful in the Weaver’s skilful hand,

As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned!

author unknown~~~~~~

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments are welcome at the homestead at any time! I appreciate your time out of your day to stop and say hello!!
We love to hear from you and yours any time and cherish the time you take to be with us here. I hope you have a GREAT week!