In My Garden
In my garden are treasures
of timeless beauty from above
where the Gardener bids me linger
as He showers me with Love
In my garden is a Tree
that offers healing fruit
where I often come to taste
of His Wisdom and His Truth
In my garden is a choir
of birds and angels who sing
reminding me it’s all about Grace
and there’s nothing I need bring
In my garden I meet the Savior
Who is eternally mine
and I’m embraced by nail-scarred hands
of purist Love Divine.
My garden is the first place I go to when I hear overwhelming news of goodness or grief.
After my dad died back in November of 1998, I went into my winter garden and prayed to my Heavenly Father and talked to my dad.
I’m not saying that my dad could hear me, but my Father heard me.
My cozy woman cave, in our attic, is the garden I go to each morning. The walls have stenciled wisteria vines on it that the dear previous owner painted. The small cot is covered in floral quilts my mother and I have made. And the nature art portfolios of mine grace the desk as a reminder for me to spend more time in creative pursuits according to what the Creator has gifted me.
I need my time with the Gardener of my heart. It’s the place where I invite Him to weed out the negative beliefs and behavior that can choke healthy growth and fruitfulness. It’s the place where I confess and am blessed by forgiveness.
~ It’s a harvest of love, joy and peace. ~
Where’s your favorite place to meet with the Keeper of your soul?
Blessings from my garden ~ Wendy
Have you visited my Writing Room yet? You’re invited anytime you have a moment or two. Just click on the link here or on the sidebar.
You’re invited to visit the post I did earlier this week on my other blog.
Here’s the link: Ode to Autumn
Very early in the morning,
while it was still dark,
Jesus got up,
left the house
and went off to a solitary place,
where he prayed.