As years saunter past, you will notice,
The garden you set out to tend
Won’t end up as you figured on paper—
The crop will be quite something else.
You’ll go on to school, like they told you
And gather up all of the seeds
They say must be planted—these only—
You’ll get what they tell you you’ll need.
But you’ll wander around and you’ll gather
Other seeds ‘long the way while you stroll,
Alone with your thoughts and your journal
As you wonder if life could hold more.
But those seeds, you’ll be told, are not worthy
Of planting, they’ll most likely be
More trouble than worth, for a girl like you
Who had better stick with a sure thing.
Even so, you’ll plant all of your seeds there
—You’ll know in your heart that you should—
You’ll secretly tend with the most care
All the dear ones folks said were no good.
The school-seeds will grow fast, as promised.
The ones that you found will take long;
They’ll grow on for years, without harvest—
You’ll hear that they ought to be pulled.
Those scrub plants—so called—you will nurture,
And as years pass, they’ll be more alive
Than the seeds that were meant to support you—
As your trees crowd them out, those will die.
“They’ll give fruit in a time, if you’re lucky.
But who really ever can say?
The trees in that space are a menace;
They ruin the things that could be.”
But trees have such value, you argue,
To shelter and feed and to clean.
Our air, earth, and water—our heartland—
And our mind, they make calm and serene.
These trees can’t provide us this instant,
With everything we want and need,
But they do fight each day for a balance
Unnoticed, edge in health and peace.
It’s true, when you let a tree flourish
It can crowd out the garden below,
But the trees, I have found, have a value
Which stays—as the centuries go.
Tag: hope
To the One Who Wanted Things in A,B,C Order
You’re trying to put tasks in order.
You have plans, but you’re patient enough
To know things must happen in sequence,
So you chomp your lip hard and act tough.
Then you work, work, work, work for that “A Goal,”
That one that just has to come first,
But it won’t budge at all, so you shrink up,
Feeling lonely and weak, without worth.
You have so many dreams, but you’re trapped here;
You can’t crack the door for the lock.
Oh, the things you could do if you pushed through,
But you can’t make it budge and you’re stuck.
You begin to despair and you panic.
The I-can’t-take-much-more shoots out pain.
You’re beaten and broken and empty.
When you peer at the goal, it’s insane.
Don’t despair; things do come for a reason—
You will see that when distance divides.
Don’t waste time; there are things you can do now.
Loose your grip and see what your palm hides.
The seeds that you hold seem so tiny,
Compared to your glorious dream.
But sometimes the small things are bigger,
Than ever you thought or they seemed.
Be content; till the soil; you have something.
You don’t know it yet, but soon you’ll find:
All the plans you conceive aren’t for nothing,
They have roots in a mightier vine.
Work hard on the “C Task” before you,
Though A, B, then C’s what you know.
Don’t slacken your dreams, learn this order:
C, B, A is how this goal may go!
To the One Trying to Earn Salvation
I see where you’ve come from
And I see where you’re heading.
You’ll work yourself into a fit.
You’ll try to obey, be good, take care,
Follow the right path, not hurt anyone.
You’ll practice for the first 20 years
As a daughter then stumble
Around for the next 20
Wondering why following
all those rules doesn’t work.
You won’t realize what you’re trying,
Trying to earn your salvation.
You just want to leave things better,
You’ll say, calmer than you found them.
This will genuinely be true.
This is what you want.
But deep down, you also want more.
You hope the One who sees all
Will recognize you and say “well done.”
You’re trying to prove your worth.
It’s admirable, wanting to make the world better,
But you’re doing it from the wrong place—
Out of feelings of worthlessness.
You aren’t worthless. You are loved.
You are loved more deeply
Than you ever can imagine.
Why are you choosing to live in fear,
—cowering, trembling—
When you could be guided by love?
The price was already paid.
Christ didn’t come to condemn the world,
But that the world might be saved,
Through Him.
It might not make sense,
Why He would care about you,
But why do you care
About things you’ve created?
Why do your own family,
Your own experiences,
Your own words,
Mean so much to you?
Because you helped make them.
Why does your kitten make you smile?
Because you love it.
You can’t explain why;
You love what you love.
I can’t explain why Christ
Loves what he does.
You may feel unworthy, imperfect,
Like you’ll never earn His love,
Never earn His salvation
And that’s all true.
But He chooses to love you.
You’ll eventually realize that
And out of that place of plenty
You’ll want to share His vision
And make this world a better place.
To the Little Girl Who Watered the Tiny Flowers
You’re such a little thing. Three? Four?
Couldn’t be more. And you notice the flowers.
Itty-bitty, no bigger than a thumbnail,
Growing hidden in the grass.
In a flash, you have a plan.
Mother’s Day is coming,
And Mom loves flowers.
She’d like some for her vase—
She’s always talking about it.
You know something about plants—
You’ve learn so much lately.
Plants grow when they get water,
Of that, you are certain.
So you go to the kitchen sink,
Stand on the step stool,
Fill a glass and carry it outside.
You select a specific patch
And you water it—
Over and over,
Glass after glass.
When Mom asks,
You say it’s a surprise.
You know this is going to work.
When Mother’s Day comes,
Those flowers will be big.
They’ll fill the vase with beautiful blooms.
But the flowers don’t grow.
…
I’m here to tell you
Your plan wasn’t a failure.
You learned something that day:
Just because you want a thing to happen,
Because you think it should happen,
Doesn’t mean it can or will or should.
You may look back over the years
And laugh at that tiny dreamer,
But please don’t stop;
Believe the impossible.
Your hope is beautiful, little girl.
Things won’t always bloom,
You learned that early,
But hope has a way
Of making miracles happen—
Not always,
But sometimes.
And as as you grow, you’ll realize
That now and then
Is plenty often
For a miracle.
Angela M. Adams
To the One Who Needs to Control the Outcome
The things that will happen, will happen.
So why do you cling tight to fear?
Unplug from that Worry Recharge Station,
Fill instead with some hope, crystal clear.
You can’t make decisions for people-
They aren’t yours to mind or to mend.
The worries you hold like a flock of caged birds,
Must be let out to fly in the end.
Peace, just like worry, is contagious.
Choose to breathe, not to drown in the cares.
Chances are, someone else won’t approve it.
That’s okay. It’s alright. Don’t waste tears.
Hear the wind. Watch the rain as it splatters
And it rushes all over the pane.
Wash your mind with a nourishing writing.
Sit in silence, and peace you’ll obtain.
Angela Writes... 