Written by J.M. Bergman
I am like dust.
Blown across the surface of what once was a nutrient garden.
Thorns of abuse and weeds of offense
have uprooted the fruit planted
so long ago.
When the wind howls,
I am but a tiny piece of existence,
blown across what once was,
with no roots to hold me down to the
truth I once held close to my heart.
This garden is hard and cold and dry and barren.
Who would dwell here with a girl once clothed in worldly accolades
—now naked?
I’ve studied all the Good Book’s words,
and yet I’m still trapped in silence
in this dungeon.
I wouldn’t wish these thorns
even on the one who caused them.
But as I bide my time away from yesterdays I realize I don’t have space
to hold onto all that shaped me.
My heart is not invincible, and I’ve realized
good and evil can’t co-survive.
To live at peace, the shame must die.
Truth is: humanity is broken,
and in the end will always let me down.
The ones who hurt me are still accountable,
but their thorns will only be uprooted
once I let go.
I must dig up their roots
to prove forgiveness is the better way.
I’ll use the tools of patience and grace my Gardener brings.
Together we will clean and cultivate this ground,
preparing it for seeds of peace.
The fight for freedom begins with me
inside my dusty heart.
And once my soil is again made new;
the Gardener will come as He always has
with seeds of redemption in His hands.
And my weeded soul will one day bloom
bright with blushing colours of healing and strength;
lush green eternal identity brimming
from the fruit of my heart.