Skip to main content

The Garden

I once knew a little girl
Who came home to change her clothes
From playing down the street with a friend;
             
But no one was home –                          
Though it was only for a moment: 
Papa was just a number of steps away                                         
Pushing the baby in the stroller                                                       
Around the corner.
           
He was gone just a handful of moments– just a handful
But the little girl didn't know this, couldn't have
And kicked the door
To get back in to where she knew she would be safe;
And the glass in the door shattered and broke, around her.
Though the little girl was not cut
In her heart she hemmoraged:
                                         
Papa leaves and the door is locked and my clothes are dirty
And I am alone and the glass crashes around me.  So I can't trust him. Anyone. 

Something within the little girl
Began to wither and rot
And the fruit, the fruit 
was hard and bitter.
                     
A wedge came between her and her papa.  For years.             
Don't touch me.  Don't hold me.  Heartbreaking cold. 

One day the moment came – nearly by chance: Talking around the dinner table, talking about old times and the broken glass door came up. 

He was gone only a handful of moments; though the Holy Spirit urged him to get home, he didn't listen.  What could go wrong in just a handful of moments?  Much can happen in a little girl's heart. 

So he said he was sorry to her, for not listening to the Holy Spirit, because God knew she needed help.  And he asked her to forgive him for not being there for her. 

She let her papa touch her, hold her again.  And again. 
             
And now she prays --
She never did before:  she knows now that Papa God  knows her, too, knows when she needs help. 
             
Our roots bind us, hold us down
Both in what is good
And in what went wrong. 
             
Jesus tends his garden. 
He digs, exposes, cuts, mends, heals, tenderly.

And then it is beautiful
And bears good fruit.

Jesus, I allow you to tend the garden
of my heart.


Comments

  1. Stephanie -3/5/11 16:22

    Great illustration! One moment, one careless word, one thoughtless deed can change a life. One moment, one careful word, one thoughtful deed can also change a life.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

tomorrow is another day

I connect to your world failing exactly at those points where we are most alike. I see myself in you, and you in me and there’s the hitch: I see you So I am hard on you Because I understand, but I understand too well. Even though you know that the popular ones are stupid and petty, you say you want to be like them anyway, though with more intelligence and it evades you as to what it takes to be liked. And I know and remember and cringe; So stand up and be you So in the mean time pained where I was shamed the same. when it should be me who delivers grace. I nudge you to do more, try more, be more- though I am keenly aware that there is a better way that alludes me; And last night when we crashed when I insisted you go to the church group because I know it is a place where you can meet friends who can truly know you and so that you can know more of God but you refused Because you say you know that the cliques are set and you always fall outside but wish you didn’t; But you would i...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Toaster, Part I

“Sit up,” I heard the inner whisper of the Holy Spirit say to me. I was lying on a wooden boat dock under the pale yellow rays of the northern sun on a quiet Norwegian fjord; my arms were my pillow. I was absorbing this one aesthetically perfect moment of solitude, gazing into the progressing indigo sky, putting off as long as I could the agony of packing the car for our drive home after a dizzying weekend church camp. I did as I was told, though in a rather laconic sort of way: I leaned forward against my arms behind me and allowed my feet to dangle in the cool North Sea inlet. Soon the most luscious of breezes floated over and around me, lapping my face, my skin. I basked in this one expectant bubble of forever. The Voice came again. “Follow the Wind, Tom! Will you follow the Wind?” It was as though God Himself was inviting me to a game of hide-and-seek. My rather realistic response was, “But I don’t know where the Wind is going.” Just as quickly, just as subtly as a bu...
1 comment
Read more

Our Father

Our Father in heaven Abba. Pappa! Our pappa. I crawl onto your lap I lay my head upon your chest I listen to your heartbeat and I know what to pray: Hallowed be your name And I praise! Yes, I praise you. You are holy not to be messed with. Your name is all. Many names You have revealed Each revealing Another polished facet of You. Your kingdom come You're in heaven And I can't see you! I want to see you So I pray: that Day will come When you will be seen in your fulness When I can look into your Eyes And you will hold me really. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. I can't grasp it: But you spoke the universe and it was. And you tell me to speak to create with you-- It is too wondrous: CHRIST in me. Christ IN me. Christ in ME! --- Gave ME (your child) authority: To reach up and Grab heaven down And make heaven happen Here. You see, There are no tears in heaven. There is no pain in heave...
1 comment
Read more