I saw the grass on the other side,
Wondering why my seed had died,
Barren over and over again,
Something was wrong with the land I was in.
They said it took just a mustard seed,
But all I saw was it choked by weeds –
And empty, standing in my field,
I asked God why the empty yield.
What about that field, Lord, so green?
I’ve watched the Sun and fruit it gleaned,
Can’t I leave these boundaries here,
Away from my pain year after year?
These lines, you said, were pleasant for me,
You asked for trust, though blind to see,
You promised you were holding my Lot,
Though so many seeds had come to naught.
I knew that my striving had led to sorrow –
Comparing, and looking out toward’s the morrow;
When all you asked was for me to abide,
In the Vine firmly planted, right by my side.
I wanted to reap the harvest next door,
When mine seemed a mine field uprooted by war,
Abandoned, alone, I fell to the ground,
Waiting for a life-giving sound.
It was then I realized, that all this time,
From you, I demanded, sign after sign –
Redeeming my story, injustice done –
The loneliness I had shared, with your Son.
Yet, there in my field, amidst the dry soil,
Stood the old Tree, like a friend ever loyal –
Its roots could withstand the wind and the rain,
Its leaves still green, despite the heat’s pain.
And even in these years of drought,
Fruitful still, despite my doubts –
My roots, by a stream, nourished and fed –
To life-giving water, You had purposed and led.
And though I saw no fruit on the Vine,
You were saving the best of the Wine,
Delayed, not denied, my Vineyard from reaping –
The harvest was coming, the Promise was keeping.
So there, I found, an Eden wild –
The faith to abide as a trusting Child
Slowly, I stopped looking outside –
My lot was enough, its treasures were wide.
For planted here, I saw no weeds,
Only life, sprouting from the Tree;
I smiled, and breathed, and opened my Hand,
The seeds I’d been holding, blew out to the Land.
I couldn’t hold on, I had to let go.
The Gardner had given me other seeds to sow
The kind of roots that storms would weather
The kind of fruit that would live forever
And there the Sun shined down on my face,
How could I leave this Eden of Grace?
A beautiful inheritance, saved just for me,
My boundaries pleasant, at laâ€‹st I could see.
Your glory I saw in the lilies and flowers,
Your intimate focus, on my every hour â€“
Clothing the grass, your eye on the Sparrow â€“
Iâ€™ll stay in your Shadow, however Narrow.
Fretting no more, I rest where You Shine â€“
Iâ€™ll gather your grace, within these lines.
Better is one day here, than a thousand outside â€“
Your commands are boundless, your plan ever wide.
And here, with beautiful room to grow,
Iâ€™ll faithfully plant, your Kingdom to sow.