Friday, April 11, 2008

09.

My beloved Lord,

You have given me a beautiful field

A plot of land for me toil

A promise of a bountiful harvest.


A land that was once filled with briar and brambles

You have uprooted and burned them all

And the field is now fit for planting

A glorious harvest calls.


But I am no farmer my Lord

I have neither tools nor knowledge

Nothing but my bumbling hands

My Lord, what should I do?


My Lord then said:

“Do not fret or fear my child

I will teach you what to do

I have prepared the tools

For your dainty hands to use.


I will tell you which seeds to plant

And We will watch them grow

Be sure to water them often

With love, faith and hope.”


My Lord, I have done what You have asked

All the tilling and planting

Even the watering and caring

And now I know not how to continue.


My Lord replied:

“We wait my child

And let Time pass by

Keep watering the field

The harvest will arrive.


I will make the seedlings grow

Tall, graceful and strong

Handsome trees with juicy fruits a laden

And ever more seeds for more.”


But my Lord, the winter chill is coming

And the plants are still so small

How could I sit and do nothing

But helplessly watch?


My Lord smiled and answered:

“My child, I am the master of all

Have I not seen what cannot be foretold?

Be patient I ask you and do what I have taught

The harvest will be plenty and it is such.


For Time will strengthen the plants

And allow much growth

The winter chill will blow through

And they will not be harmed.


For I have given you tender shears to prune them

And with My eyes I am keeping watch

Not a leaf will be destroyed nor a twig be broken

As long as you diligently pray over them.”


My Lord, it is indeed as You say

That my worries are all for naught

The field is now filled with mighty trees

And the harvest will soon come by.


The flowers have budded and blossomed

And the many fruits are growing

My heart flutters with excitement

For it is almost time for reaping.


My basket at ready, my apron adorned

My heart is glad at the fruits galore

My hands are delighted as they reach out to pick

But stilled immediately as a soft voice speak.


My Lord spoke with knowing eyes:

“My child may I inquire

What is this that you plan to do?

The fruits may have grown prettily

Yet they are not ripe for plucking.


Love and Time has yet to seep their way though

To soften and sweeten the fruit

And I will not disappoint you my child

If you will obediently follow My guide.


For I will show you which fruit is ripe

And I will inform you the time

For it is important to get it right

As so the fruit will not be too sour or tough to bite.”


So forgive me my Lord for I am too hasty

And help me wait and listen patiently

For my Lord’s wisdom transcends all

And my Lord’s promise never falls.


4 comments:

meli said...

Thank you Abba Father, thank you Jesus, thank you Holy Sprit for giving this to cin. Thank you cin for writing them down obediently. i am deeply comforted as i read this precious words of hope and comfort.

Sheena said...

A beautiful poem dear Cindy. You really have a great talent and a gift for writing such inspirational and anointed poems. I am really blessed reading them. Continue to write more to glorify His name!

dangerous cat said...

Thank you so much, Sheena and Meli Meli. I'm glad that you like the poems. ;p

Unknown said...

Hi Cindy, Beautiful poem and finally got to see what you were telling me all along. My first thought was the growth of our church, sort of in line with making new disciples and watching them grow, and I imagine when the fruits are ripe, their seed can be use for planting as well.

Then the poem reminds me of my family. How I was too hasty to reap them when it's not time, impatient to see results and scared of the "winter chills" in their path that would affect their salvation. It's comforting to know the Lord is the Master of all, and am waiting and praying patiently for His promise to come to pass.

Your poem is a blessing, Cindy =)
Thank you.