My Life

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I let Him choose the colors
He worketh subtlety.

Oft times He worketh sorrow
and I within my heart
Forget He sees the pattern
While I see only the part.

The dark threads were as needful
In the weaver's skilful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver,
In the pattern He had planned.

Not till the room is silent,
And the shuttle ceases to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas,
And explain the reason why.
~Author Unknown

Isn’t this wonderful?  I remember thinking when I was younger that if I was righteous, then I would always be blessed and nothing truly bad would ever happen in my life.  What was I thinking?  Have you ever looked at the lives of the great prophets or of great men and women of history?  They lived through many trials and learned great lessons from them.  As I was reading from the Ensign this morning, I was thinking of trials.  How can I hope to live next door to Moses’s mother or down the street from President Hinckley one day if I can’t be faithful in my here and now, in every thing?  Hopefully, I will.  Hopefully, I can.