Just Share It: The Weaver

                                                   Everyday is a brand new day, everyday is a journey.

Ask God to give thee skill
In comfort's art,
That thou may'st consecrated be
And set apart,
Unto a life of sympathy;
For heavy is the weight of ill
In every heart;
And comforters are needed much
Of Christlike touch.
—Alexander Hamilton.

I have seen this poem many times before and most likely even shared it with all of you. Yet, there is something about it that one cannot deny. We don't tire of it's message and if you are like me, it seems brand new every time I read it. Enjoy.

The Weaver
By: B.M. Franklin

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors
As He weaveth steadily.
Sometimes He chooses dark threads
And I in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper
And I the under side.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvass
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of Gold and Silver,
In the pattern He has planned

Have a blessed day everyone. 


  1. The poet Benjamin Malachi Franklin of Mississippi (1882-1965) wrote The Weaver.

    Our Founding Father Benjamin Franklin had no middle name. (1706-1790)

    Lest anyone not know the difference; I typed it here.



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