The Master Weaver’s Plan
by: Benjamin Malachi Franklin
My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I do not choose the colors,
He worketh steadily
Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside
Not ‘til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why
The dark threads are as needful
In the skillful weaver’s hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
(this poem was often quoted by Corrie ten Boom
as she traveled and spoke around the world)
This is very lovely. A lot of wisdom here.
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