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Peace Truth

Weaving threads πŸ’₯

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

My life is but a weaving Between my God and me. I cannot choose the colors He weaveth steadily.
Oft' times He weaveth sorrow; And I in unreasonable pride Forget He sees the upper And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent And the shuttles cease to fly Will God unroll the canvas And reveal 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.
He knows He loves, He cares; Nothing this truth can dim. He gives the very best to those Who leave the choice to Him.

By Peace Truth

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)