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.
RT @BethMooreLPM: "Stand against the schemes of the devil...withstand in the evil day & having done ALL to stand FIRM. Stand therefore." No…tweet 8 months ago
Margin in family creates memories. Margin in personal finances creates generosity. B.Lomenick #fbcnlallintweet 3 years ago
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