The Divine Weaver

I came across this poem in a book I am reading and really love the metaphore presented in it. Thought I would share.

The Diving Weaver

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 that He seeth the upper,

And I the under side.

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.

Romans 8:28 "All things work together for good for those who are called according to His purpose."