The Weaver

My life is but a weaving
between the 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 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.

This poem is on a wall hanging in our bedroom and it's one of my favorites. I was reminded of it yesterday when I watched the following video about who God is and how He doesn't need our acceptance.

Reading the poem and listening to the video is very humbling for me. There are things that I don't understand, but it's not my place to understand them. God is in complete control and I have to choose if I will trust Him to "work all things together for good."