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My Loom Room
Do you weave, spin or dye?
Today, I would to share one of my favorite poems with you
in hopes that you will find it as meaningful to your life
as I have found it to be in my own.
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
but I the under side.
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 needful
in the Weaver's skillful hand,
as threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.
Author unknown
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