I have a hosta haven nestled under shag bark trees,
where in the cool of autumnís dusk I linger with the breeze.
As summerís sun turns into fall and hot cares fade with day,
I find my green cathedral here and steal away to pray.
Itís here beneath the rustling leaves with asters, lace, and rose
that I can still my hurried thoughts and feel a sweet repose.
Among the songs of natureís own I sing my hymn of praise,
and in the quiet of this cove, my heart to Him I raise.
Communing with the Lord I love in this secluded nook
is such a blessing to my soul as I lift eyes to look.
The heavens high above remind that He shall always be
much greater far than any care or woe that touches me.
I breathe the scent of floral dew and know it is His Will
to bring His beauty to my life, my every need fulfill.
God knows whatís best for me today. I know His plan is right.
I choose to trust the Fatherís love, trust faith instead of sight.
So in this hosta haven, where prayer and praise unite,
I once again renew my vow to walk in Jesusí light,
to grow into His likeness and blossom in the Wind
of His sweet Holy Spirit, a fragrant Rose for Him.
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