Just Share It: The Weaver

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



Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand?

—Sir Walter Scott

I have first developed a love for poetry in the Freshman year of High School. We had to compile a whole series of poems and illustrate them appropriately. I enjoyed every minute and I received an A+ for it, too. I don't have a favorite, which is kind of weird, because everyone else does. I guess that maybe it could be, because I love diversity. There are numerous poems out there for everyone, but I look for what the poem conveys to me. The Weaver speaks to me, because it is a relationship that I want to achieve with my Lord and Savior. I hope you enjoy. 

The Weaver

Author Unknown

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.