There is a Mother Goose book full of happy
rhymes, one of which says this:
Mistress
Mary, quite contrary,
How
does your garden grow?
With
silver bells
And
cockle shells
And
pretty maids all in a row.
For the Christian woman, her garden is not
full of silver bells or cockle shells but rather beautiful, fragrant,
cultivated graces of kindness, selfless generosity, and useful actions. Hers
does not grow unprofitable weeds which sap nutrients from her plants.
Wintry blasts cannot kill her garden of
graces. She desires--even longs for--visitation from the warm south winds to
comfort and blow on her garden. She cannot endure to be unproductive or
unprofitable in her graces.
She prays even through the bruising of
life's trials. The power and plan of her Savior waters her garden with fresh
blessings. Jesus himself finds comfort in her poor, feeble graces.
In the corner of my guest bedroom, now my
makeshift painting studio, I have a rocking chair, a lamp, Polly's Portrayals,
and Bible books. Each morning I pray, sing, and sometimes cry with tears of
gratitude to my Heavenly Father for His everlasting graces to nurture my
garden. May I be fragrant with blossoms of faith, love, patience, hope, and joy
surrendered to the sweet hand of the Faithful Gardener.
Blow warm winds upon our gardens, Dear One!
--Polly Kettenring
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