“The Weaver” My 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 till 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 skilful hand As the threads of gold and silver In the pattern He has planned __Grant Colfax Tullar.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Jun 2013 02:51:10 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015