A Garden I Cannnot See

Father,

You catch every

tear that I cry

and water a garden

I cannot see.

I don’t understand,

hard as I try,

the beauty of what

You’re creating.

You see the

rows of tulips

and know the place

of every bulb.

You count the

cost each uses up

and determine what’s best

for my soul.

You’ve planted lilies,

dahlias, and roses;

each simply starting as

a tiny seed.

You care for

their growth

and cultivate them

exactly how they need.

You tell me

to wait patiently,

and all I see is

a barren field.

I must rely on

Your sufficiency

and trust that you’ll

bring a yield.

What seem like

wasted tears to me,

You choose to use

for your gardening.

May each tear

bring You glory,

and I pray I can soon

see what You’re doing.