My life is a weaving between me and my God.
I may not choose the colors; he knows what they should be.
He can view the pattern upon the upper side,
While I can see it only on this under side.
Sometimes he weaveth sorrow; which seems so strange to me.
But I will trust his judgement and work on faithfully.
Its he who fills the shuttle; He knows just what is best
So I shall weave in earnest and leave the rest with him.
At last… When life ends I shall abide with him
And I shall know the reason why pain was entwined with joy was woven…
In the fabric of life that God designed.
