My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes 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 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.
Grant Colfax Tuller
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold I make all things new.
Revelation 21:4
Although the threads of my life have often seemed knotted, I know, by faith, that on the other side of the embroidery there is a crown. Corrie Ten Boom, Baarn Holland
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