A
Lonesome Place
There's a lonesome place against the sky
Where sometimes all alone we stand
And watch the world go by
A strange world, not our own
For deep, heart-breaking sorrow
We never fully share
Alone we stand on that bleak hill
Lost in our deep despair
But the cry that comes
From a burdened heart is heard
There is peace, if we will
For God's own Son knew the dreadful pain
Of a cross on a lonesome hill
He understands and He stands by
With comfort in our grief
To ease the pain and bring new hope
And give the heart relief
There is a lonesome place
And all must stand there now and then
But if we place our hand in His
He'll help us smile againBy Helen Marshall
My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me
I may not choose the colors,
He knows what they should beFor He can view the pattern
From His, the upper side,
While I can see it only
On this, the under sideSometimes He weaveth sorrow,
Which seemeth strange to me;
But I will trust His judgment
And work on faithfully'Tis He who fills the shuttle,
He knows just what is best:
So I shall weave in earnest,
And leave with Him the rest.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
