My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors – He worketh steadily.
Oftimes 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 flyCorrie ten Boom: The Tapestry Poem
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.
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
I dunno who wrote that, but… wow. If you’ve ever seen a tapestry or handmade rug anything woven, then you’d understand the reference. That is SUCH amazing imagery…. o.o