The Divine Weaver

My life is but a weaving

Between my Lord and me;

I cannot choose the colors

He worketh steadily.


Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow

And I, in foolish pride,

Forget He seeth the upper

And I the underside.


Not till 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.


~ Author unknown

One of my favorite all time poems !!

Enoch 5/26/2007, 21 weeks gestation, miss you honey

I wrote this during one of my losses, a reflection on the above poem.

You Stopped

You stopped your hands

while you were weaving

The loom was left to stand


Still not believing,

I tried to understand.

I tried to grab the shottle

To force the needle through


Soon in endless silence

I dropped the needle too

I pulled my hands away

And felt time stand still


It started to unravel and

You took it off the loom

in Your cradled arms

Lifted the unopened bloom


Into your unseen places

To complete the work there


Now I sit in anguish

my busy loom now bare

The empty hole just gaping

Not even a string there


Waiting for the weaver

To begin work anew

Making a design

All want to eschew


lots of knots and tangles

as I thought things through


a perfect work of beauty

unbeknownst to me

so blinded by what I could

not what I could not see.

Esther Gay-Primel,

in honor of my five lost little ones, the last was gone in June 2010


2 comments on “The Divine Weaver

  1. I have a baby son and a beautiful daughter who have been with the Lord for many years. It is bitter sweet. The bitter is not of God only the sweet. They say time heals. I found the healing that has and continues to this day is gentle and kind for our Savior’s sacrific has given me a promise that I will with both of my precious children one day. May God’s peace fill you this day and the days to come.

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