It seemed like rich, soft soil
in this heart I carried ‘round
But when the Gardener’s spade hit,
He struck a hardened ground.
He continued to throw his shovel
breaking chunks off with each blow
Unsatisfied He was
with leaving this plot so shallow.
The pain spurred tears of anger,
of grief, embarrassment
Then new drops of humility
finally were spent.
The Gardener didn’t mind the water,
in fact he used its spray
The tears provided softness
to the hardened dirt and clay.
The Gardener kept on digging
deep and wider than before
Good plans he’d made for this claimed lot
much harvest was in store.
He encountered rocks and weeds
that had settled in their place
But lovingly he pulled each up
to clear a fertile space
They kept his seeds from going deep
whose roots they must run wild
He tugged each weed up by the root,
untainting soil defiled.
I could resist my Gardener,
withhold my tears in pride
Or cling to rocks and all the weeds
I try so hard to hide
I could focus on my neighbor’s soil
and keep a detailed list
Maybe point out to the Gardener
their rough spots that he missed
But if I trust his work in me
I’ll focus on my own
I’ll let the tears pour softly down
Let him expose each stone
For all of us have rocky spots
Eve’s daughters and her sons
Let him who doesn’t cast the first
at us, the sinful ones
The Gardener’s hand is full of seeds
he gently tosses down
Like pebbles on the earth
that will emerge as jewels in crowns
There will be seasons of waiting,
of pruning and more rain
But good crops are beginning
with deep roots that will sustain
The Gardener smiles at his work,
His promises fulfilled
He just needed unkempt soil
that was willing to be tilled.