A poem

The Master Weaves

Me with you, and me without
Like a garment turned inside out
Showing inside edges frayed
Knots torn loose, a tangled maze
Of strings collected, bits rejected,
Creating no pattern, showing no plan,
Till turned about by the maker’s hand,
The mess reversed reveals its face
Sewn with mercy, stitched with grace.
So you and I, turned round, restored
Reveal the glory of our Lord.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s