When she would speak of her life she would often look down as she spoke. She was not looking at notes but rather looking at a cross stitch project she would be working on. While she would relay the challenges and horrors of life in a concentration camp she would quote from the following poem.
The Master Weaver's Plan
My life is
but a weaving
Between
the Lord and me;
I may not
choose the colors–
He knows
what they should be.
For He can
view the pattern
Upon the
upper side
While I
can see it only
On this,
the under side.
Sometimes
He weaves in sorrow,
Which
seems so strange to me;
But I will
trust His judgment
And work
on faithfully.
‘Tis He
who fills the shuttle,
And He
knows what is best;
So I shall
weave in earnest,
And leave
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.
~ Benjamin
Malachi Franklin
As you gather to celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow, be sure to thank the Lord for the work He is doing in your life.
Pastor Mike
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