We weave our cloth of life with threads
Of hours and days we’re given
And
make a pattern that reflects
The face of God in heaven.
He gives us days of greatest joy
That cast a lovely hue.
But days of sorrow we must bear
For darker colors too.
Some days have trials woven in
That give our cloth its strength,
So other days that are misused
Won’t cause a tear or rent.
Friends add a texture to our cloth
And shining highlights leave;
New ones silver, old ones gold
Affect the warp and weave.
Faith is the shuttle we employ
To weave a better cloth,
And love we use to weave it too;
Love makes it smooth and soft.
Some days we weave silken threads
And some days coarse and rough;
One day’s threads are stout and strong,
Another’s softest fluff.
But when our cloth of life is woven
And taken from the frame,
It is unique, one of a kind;
No other is the same.
For though the same days we are given,
We use them differently
And make a pattern all our own
In God’s great tapestry.
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