A Life but a Weaving

A poem about life struggles and God working in a person.

Life is but a Weaving by Corrie ten Boom & Florence M. Alt

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside. / the other side

I choose my strands all golden
and watch for woven stars
I murmur when the pattern is set
in blurs and mars
I cannot yet remember
whose hands the shuttles guide
and that my stars are shining
upon the upper side.

I choose my tread all crimson
and wait for flowers to bloom
for warp and wolf to blossom
upon that mighty loom
full oft I seeked and vainly
and threat for them denied
though flowering wreaths
and garlands may deck the upper sidemy life is but a weaving
between my God and meI see the seams
the tangles
the fair design
sees hethen let me wait in patience
and blindness satisfied
to make the pattern lovely
upon the upper side

°°
Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful

In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silverIn the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him

 

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