A Poem and A Hymn

The Weaver


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.


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