The Plowman
God is plowing my spirit
breaking with His Word
through turf of actions
churning them over
to deep motivations
bare and uncovered
furrows laid open
before my own eyes
Mine is the stony patch
lumpy with pebbles
life-habits of thinking
established reactions
plow clangs out warning
when stones hit the plowshare
Then God stops His plowing
takes out unrelenting
shovel of living
methodically patiently
loosens the dirt
proceeds to uncover
not pebbles but boulders
that must be removed
I'm bruised and disquieted
torn wide apart
a field He's preparing
for purposes
higher than mine.
© 2004 by Violet Nesdoly
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Spring is the season we prepared the soil for planting on the farm where I grew up. But I wonder, is there ever a time when the soil of one's life isn't getting a going-over for its next crop?
It seems no sooner I get over one challenge, than I face another. And whatever these challenges are (whether community, family, personal, writing-related), they open me up to myself, revealing places where a lot of work still needs to be done.
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lovely poem
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Tracy!
ReplyDeleteOh my...convicted. So true and a lovely way of saying it, Violet. Beautiful imagery...
ReplyDeleteNot having a farming background, my nearest parallel is spring cleaning when the sun comes shinin' in springtime.
ReplyDeleteWhich reminds me. I need to clean out my files that are getting so overloaded I can't stuff anything else in.
Great poem and a fresh reminder to declutter our heart, mind, spirit and time for the year ahead.