Poetry

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God handed me a package,
Wrapped carefully in His love.
I gently removed the wrapping
And saw a mass of roots
With tiny green plant above.

"What am I to do with this,
It has no soil or earth?"
And the Lord replied,
"It's a plant of faith
Which grows in your new birth."

"If those roots grow deep in me
They might break me all apart."
With loving gentleness
He softly replied,
"Yea, even your stony heart."

You mean I must let go
Of that which is me.
And let the roots go
Deep within
To make a place for Thee?"

"Allow Me to work in you
And soon you will find
My gift of roots
Will help you grow
In body and soul, Mine."

"Well, Lord, I guess You know
Being the greatest gardener of all
That Your roots don't grow
In stony hearts
But in fertile, well tilled soil."

Lord, do with me what You will
Use me as Thine own, break my rocky heart
Into Thy Spirit's
Lifelong home."

"Jesus, I thank and praise You,
For this massive bunch of root,
That will break me into fertile soil
To be used to produce Your fruit!"

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