The Weaver
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.
" Grant Colfax Tuller (1869-1950), is the author of this poem although I have noticed that at least one person online attributes the poem to himself. Tuller was a minister in New Jersey. His book titled "Written Because: and "An Autobiography," "Some Stories and Poems" explains the stories behind various hymns that he wrote.
Photo: Engin_Akyurt / 2491 images - CCO Public Domain - Free for commercial use - No attribution required