My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me:
I may not choose the colours-
He knows what they should be.
For He can view the pattern
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
On this the other side.
Sometimes he weaves in sorrow,
Which is so strange to me;
But I will trust His judgement
And live on faithfully.
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 skilful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
Gentle As Silence
By Estelle White
Oh, the love of my Lord is the essence
Of all that I love here on earth.
All the beauty I see, He has given to me,
And his giving is gentle as silence.
Every day, every hour, every moment,
Have been blessed by the strength of His love.
At the turn of each tide, He is there at my side,
And his touch is as gentle as silence.
There’ve been times when I’ve turned from his presence,
And I’ve walked other paths, other ways,
But I’ve called on his name, in the dark of my shame
And his mercy was gentle as silence.