Make me as a flower in sun and rain. May I, as by nature, turn to follow You In Your course throughout my life. Let Your holy, healing waters penetrate my being, As roots planted securely in Your Providential soil, Drink of Your constant streams. As it is Your nature to water and supply, May I by Rebirth, Unfurl my gowns to Solomon’s delight.
Lord, make of me a place of roses, A gathering of saints, A palace of Your glory, Alive with the radiant splendor Of Your Holy Spirit.
Give me that sincere and true humility, That clears my ground Of briars, weeds and thistle, That rakes away debris And furrows my field crosswise To welcome the rains And receive the seed Of love and deeds as new growth Sprouting joy and fruit aplenty.
Come here to my happy garden To take Your rest, Lay aside Your Cross And bring forth the Sun To shine on all.
Make me as a flower in sun and rain.
May I, as by nature,turn to follow You in Your course throughout my life.
Let Your holy, healing waters penetrate my being as roots planted securely in Your Providential soil drink of Your constant streams.
As it is Your nature to water and supply, may I by Rebirth, unfurl my gowns to Solomon’s delight.
Lent means that spring is just around the corner. Looking at my garden, it was obvious that it was in need of some serious tender loving care. All I had the energy for was to uproot a few of the hundreds of weeds, but I did begin. Immediately, a thought interrupted my picking. “Many souls are dead and don’t even know it.” Surprised by the seriousness of the pronouncement, I turned to the Lord, “Why is that, Lord?”
“Look at the weeds you’re uprooting; they look healthy and well, don’t they? Yet, you know they’re counterfeits; you root them up. Many people no longer know what’s good for them. They opened their soil to the world and allowed the world to decide what grew in them; no questions asked!
Empty places invite weeds. Weeds take the place of authentic, productive life. Soon they choke out the good by sheer numbers and their greedy appetites. Weeds look pretty good for a while. It isn’t until you miss the flowers and the fruit, that you notice something has gone awry. In life, people are like gardens. Some are dying but still look good. Sin like weeds is deceptive. People are kept busy and entertained by counterfeit life. Yet they are loosing ground to the world. They are losing the reward of their time and effort. Their work and play have no eternal end, just transitory vigor and flash. It’s really death wrapped in greenery.
This morning I weeded my entire garden. I also went to confession.