Streams of Comfort

This poem is set in a garden where the character has an encounter with Jesus, and is encouraged to continue the race of life within the exhaustion that threatens to overtake them. I hope this upcoming week you remember to look toward Jesus and the promise of eternal life when life wears you out. Understanding that joy can still flourish internally even when our bodies are stressed and tired.

“Listen to this,” the Gardener told me,
“Don’t get caught up in the weeds,
You must pull them out but don’t be distracted by them,
Focus on the flowers themselves to avoid becoming weary.”
I knew he was right as I looked out at the vast garden of flowers,
There was no way you could pull up all of the weeds and escape exhaustion,
Focusing on just the flowers might make the strenuous work almost bearable.
“It’s a pity,” I responded,
“The dandelions are so beautiful.”
I watched their soft white heads sway in the wind,
Releasing feathery tufts into the air,
As if a small white bird had just taken flight.
“Do not be deceived,” the Gardner warned me,
“What distinguishes a weed from a flower is its purpose.
The moment these dandelions grew where they had not been planted,
Their purpose became to take over the space created for the marigolds,
“ And thus they became weeds.”
I let out a sigh as I knew he was right,
If the dandelions were not removed,
We would most likely miss out on the beauty of the marigolds,
And my heart currently raced with anticipation to see the orange ruffles of sun spring up,
Each heartbeat for the marigolds, not the dandelions.
“Make sure to pull them up by their roots,” he continued,
“That’s where their source of life is”.
He held up a cluster of feathery heads with a thick dark brown root attached to their stems ,
“There are many beautiful things in life with a distorted purpose,”
“You must identify them and uproot them,”
Because if they remain, they will take over and you will get lost in them,
Unable to see the flowers right in front of you,”
I knew he was referring to the flowers as eternal life.
He had a habit of communicating the deep things of life through garden imagery,
And I had gotten used to his manner of speaking.
“Jesus”, I said,
And he looked back up at me at the sound of his name.
“I don’t think I am strong enough to tend to this vast garden,”
I turned my gaze back to the multiple fields of flowers that needed tending to,
The weeds were just as beautiful as they were relentless,
And I was just one person.
He gave me a knowing smile,
“Don’t worry, I am the Gardner,”
“You are my assistant,”
“My Father has given me this work and I am inviting you to join me,”
But no matter what happens I will complete this work,
Rely on me.”
After a short pause I nodded and then knelt down beside him,
Making a mental note to ask him later who his Father was,
As I was not sure that I had met him even though he spoke about him often,
I began to sweat as I joined him in uprooting the weeds so that the flowers could bloom safely.