“The Weaver”

“It was at this time that He went off to the mountain to pray, and He spent the whole night in prayer to God.”  ~ Luke 6:12

The Weaver

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oftimes He weaveth sorrow,
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I, the underside.

Not till the loom in 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 skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

~ B.M. Franklin (1882-1965)

This poem has a very special meaning to Cindy and me. We placed it on the prayer card of our son, Brian, at his funeral in 2003. We gave a print of it in a framed shadow box to the family of the young woman who was involved in the accident that took our son’s life. And we have a print of it framed and hanging on a wall in our home. For we clearly saw God’s hand in the midst of our deepest sadness. We saw threads of silver and gold which brought us bittersweet joy even as we lay awake crying in bed the night of his funeral. Not even the darkest threads can separate us from the love of Jesus Christ.

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
~Romans 8:35

Note that, although some have attributed the poem to Corrie Ten Boom, she was not the author. B.M. Franklin is the author.

Photograph by John J O’Leary