On an exchange with the english sisters. THey let me
borrow their clothes in exchange for funny face pictures.
My girls! (the old ones, we've been here since November)
My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors, He worketh steadily. Oft time He weaveth sorrow,
And I, in foolish pride, Forget He sees the upper, And I the underside.
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 needful in the Weaver’s skillful hand, As the threads of gold
and silver in the pattern He has planned. He knows, He loved, He cares, nothing
this truth can dim. He gives His very best to those who leave the choice with
Him. ~Author Unknown
I am thankful for a loving God who is far wiser
than I. I am grateful for His patience and guidance. I am grateful for a
charmed life that is not free of sorrows. I am grateful that happiness is a
choice that I can make each day.
No comments:
Post a Comment