The Master Weaver's Plan

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me
I may not choose the colours –
He knows what they should be
For He can view the pattern
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
From this, the underside.

Sometimes He weaveth sorrow,
Which seemeth strange to me;
But I will trust His judgement,
And work on faithfully;
'Tis He who fills the shuttle,
And He knows what is best,
So I shall weave in earnest,
Leaving to Him the rest.

Not 'til the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why;
The dark threads are as needed,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

—Author Unknown