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 under side.
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.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
who leave the choice with Him.
~Author Unknown
I am so grateful for the knowledge that my life is in the hands of the Master Weaver.
I might not always understand why, but I do always have hope and peace.
Today after several months and even years, I feel a tremendous sense of peace.
I am so grateful for that.
I am also grateful for this very handsome guy...who loves me just the way I am.
I am one lucky girl...
and these two...
who I wish I could just squeeze forever...
4 comments:
Oh that poem is not done by an anonymous author, it was me. I woke up and couldn't sleep one night so I thought I would write, and I did. I sm glade you like it, and your welcome.
Those are some handsome men in your life! (And Gordon isn't too bad himself.) Love you, Petunia.
Ohhhhhhh sooo sweet! Love you guys!
When Todd and you were first married Grandma Mason had a little crush on Todd--and wanted his attention--if she could see him now as he has matured into even more of a handsome man--you and Todd would be in big trouble! If you know what I mean--and I think you do! lol ;)
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