Here in the garden of my soul, I thrill that the work of my hands testifies to the direction of my soul. I am no longer held captive to the whimsical desires of the flesh, but recognize that the labors I pour out in this sacred space testify to the love within my heart of my Maker. From time to time, here in the afternoon sun, as the sweat slips from my brow and treks earthward, I cry out to the Lord to ensure that He knows the direction of my heart.
I have watched as aimless individuals have crossed this meadow, in hot pursuit of whatever emotion is ruling their heart. For brief moments our eyes will meet and they will wordlessly beckon me to join their hunt, but I resist. My feet remain rooted to this fertile soil, my hands wrapped with satisfaction around the neck my enemies, grateful that the Lord hears my cry and gives me the strength to resist. These weeds are devilish enough for my efforts; were I to run and throw myself back into the wilds of temptation, perhaps the Lord would continue to watch over me, to guard me in His righteous right hand, but I know the fate of those who run so, and I choose to remain in this place where my life might glorify God.
From time to time they will come and lurk at the garden gate, toying coyly with the latch as they tempt me to return to the chaos from whence I have come. They speak words of arrogance, hatred directed toward my current labors, callous words of misunderstanding, hoping to lead my heart astray once more. Lies and mistruths pour forth from their hearts as they hope to lure me away from my sanctuary.
Rise up, O Lord, and with those mighty wings with which you shield me defeat these wicked ones who torment me so. Beat them back to the forest, where they may run in their wicked paths and laugh in their foul ways. Their lives are fulfilling in their empty ways, and only too late do they realize the hunger still rests, deep within, and cannot be filled by the feasts in the forest.
You alone can provide a feast from the fertile soil your hands have made. I am in your grasp, safe within your arms, and I toil with satisfaction, knowing that whatever plans you have for me, I shall not stray from your eternal rest.
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