Thursday, 14 March 2013

The Garden

You are my private garden, my treasure, my bride.
Song of Solomon 4:12

“My husbandman, welcome to your garden
Come, walk with me here
There are roses but there are thorns
I lay my soul to you bare.

My husbandman, take my hand
Let me lead you , let me show you around
May you delight in the rich perfume
Just please don’t look at the ground.

Let me show you the colours
And all the fruits from this tree
Oh surely its bursting with goodness
loaded abundantly.

Its just that over here Lord
I can’t seem to get it to grow
But I’m sure it doesn’t matter
There is so much beauty still.

Come and see these flowers Lord
They’re just nearby
See how many have flourished
They must be pleasing to your eye.

Why do you look back Lord?
Its just a spot on the ground.
So easy to disguise
With all the plentiful growth around”.

“My daughter, I am your husbandman
To me its safe to lay your heart bare
I am here for this reason
For the soil that is here…

Its needing my touch
Its needing you to see
That soil is the lifeblood of the garden
and it must be filled with me.

The Jesus whom you worship
Who gave his life for you;
His blood poured out on the ground
He feeds and waters you still.

This part you’ve hid away
Averted your eyes, and mine
Will slowly spread its barrenness
Unless you turn it over to Him.

There can be nothing in the garden
That separates you from me
Open your heart to my ministrations
Let me take back what you gave away.

Let me till the hardened soil
And pull out the imposter weeds
It will only hurt for a little while
But won’t we rejoice to see…

The garden as it was before
Full of growth and life
Before you hid this part from my view
and shielded it from the light.

The garden as it should be
Because you were designed to be;
As a treasure bought at a great cost,
A gift worthy of me”.

Lisa de Jong



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