Thou art the Gard'ner,
Lord of my heart,
This soul within Thy care,
Is Thine to tend, to prune and hold,
What Fruit Thou findeth there.
So with Thy hands,
Plant "Faith", the seed
Down, deep into the soil.
Cover, pat and water 'til
Settled deeply in my soul.
Bursting forth--the Sun!
Beating hot and dry,
It comes to test Thy tiny seed,
Which, taking root,
Presses up t'wards the Light.
Birds of the Air,
Begin to circle 'round,
Pecking and claw feet scratching,
Eagerly search the fertile dirt,
to prevent this seed from lasting.
Next, springs forth weeds,
Chaff of envy, snares of doubt,
Growing swiftly beside the seed,
To seek gain only for itself,
And choke this little seed out!
But deep, deep down
In that same fertile soil
The protected seed of Faith,
Though tiny in size,
Still strengthens and grows.
'Til Victory, yea!
The seed pushes forth,
From the dark and tilled ground,
And 'neath Thy loving eyes, O Gardner,
A fresh, strong shoot is found.
What then Little Plant?
Where doth thine uncertain course lie?
To grow more, still--steady and strong,
'Neath Jesus' tender hand
and to bear true Fruit of Life!
Then tarry not, Dear Heart,
Thru beating rays, birds or desert Sun,
Press forward, up and on!
For under Jesus' care YOU are,
The Fight--soon finished, and thy work--soon done!
Love,
[Photo Cred: Google]
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