I have been reading a book called “Grace Under Fire” (“Letters of faith in time of war.”) There are some beautiful letters written by husbands in the armed services to their wives or parents back home. One letter has a pretty nice little quote in it by an anonymous person:
“My life is but a weaving, between the 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 lower side.
The dark threads are as needful in the Weaver’s skillful hand
As threads of gold and silver ‘neath the pattern He has planned.
Not ’til the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unveil the canvas and explain the reason why.”