I just need a little tending, now.

A little knees sinking into soil,
there in the mix of muck and rocks and leaves which, in time, have clumped around me.
A little someone willing to get their hands messy,
to cup their palms and fingers around my withered boughs and see
they’re still alive, still growing, still capable of bearing fruit.
A little sitting right there next to me,
to meet my flailing tendrils where they’re at,
if only to share a moment of sweet presence,
and hum to me the quiet reminder of victory now and still to come.


I might just need a little watering, as well.

A little stream stretching deep into cracks
to quench the desert patches of my soul.
A little shower, and at times, a downpour
to cleanse my mind so often scuffed by sin.
A little sending down the bucket into the well,
for Living Water I admit my soul is thirsting, and do, in fact, believe always will.


And while my fists may clench as I say this,
I just need a little pruning right now, too.

A little admonition of things tempting,
for voices are strong and comforts lure me quick.
A little peeling away my tight-gripped fingers,
wrapped around stakes of offenses holding me back.
A little scraping away layers which have tarnished,
for underneath I trust you see His good intent.


So if you see something about me that seems disordered,
straying brambles, vines a ramble, briers poking through,
chances are that I just need a little tending.
The Gardener believes I’m worth a million chances.
Do you?

2 responses to “Tending

  1. So good Taylor. It reminds me of several scriptures but the last sentence took me to this one in particular.

    Matt 10:29-31 “What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries.

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