yesterday,as I was going through an old journal written a little more than a year after my divorce. (2009) I came across the first Poem I wrote since my stroke, I was at an all time low in my life, 88 pounds heavier than I am now, and ten inches bigger; at that time, I had lost all hope and was almost suicidal daily. I believed that God hated me and had deserted me when I needed Him most. I was certain that He had taken away all of my creativity in the stroke I experienced in 1998. At this point I had become a total recluse. I had lost the ability to empathize or sympathize, I couldnt see past my own hurt. but God is faithful, He worked a circumstance that quickly led to heartbreak because He knew this was the only way to make me cry out to Him again. I’d been through open heart surgery, bankruptcy, fire, a massive stroke, job loss, the death of my father and divorce all over the last ten years; but they all only caused me to pull away from God, but Heartache is different, medicine or substances, can’t adequately mask it, I knew from experience that my only hope in overcoming the hurt was in God, so I cried out to Him. this poem was the first result; a gift from God that made me realize that He hadnt taken away my creativity, He hadnt taken what I loved most. the second half of the poem came because of a vision, what it describes is what I saw in that vision:. (8/25/09) “ the master gardener” By Rick Spooner I built a dream, from the embers of past pain; a dream of being loved, holding a Child of my name .Every waking moment I would bask in the warmth of the hope of finding true Love. Then Bitter tears forced surrender of compassion from the sun. About my walls a stalwart army then lay, An Emotionless troop, determined to stay. With vengeful passion, they set up their camps. Protecting me, daring pain my way to tramp Resolutely, I determined that I would never be, an open heart where love could e’r be seen My heart would be an enclosed Garden with strong walls, built of iron and clay; I now lay safe with my army as strong walls guarded the way. Yet With time weeds came to grow, as angry thorns sprouted, Laughed, then played Still the master gardener knew of a certainty that the garden would die if left untended this day. Thus he allowed within, a thief, through a hidden gate. The thief now at home camping near to the fountain I had hidden to keep safe, Often from its cool water the thief came to drink, yet as time passed, the thief came to see, the walls as a prison needing to break free Thus with hammer in hand to my walls the thief ran, Striking with glee, my walls left a burning shambles, my army in the wake, my heart then unshackled Free to whomever might care come to stay The master then smiled all was now well, Without Strong walls made bitter by clay. Once more my heart now a garden, a place of beauty and grace Where flowers grace pathways where birds love to play, In the center, a fountain stands open today, A fountain once hidden bids others it’s way. The walls that once hid me now only crumbled bits of clay. Death no longer dwells here no shadows hide the day. I thought myself now open, endangered by all Afraid with no bulwark to hold back my fall But then my eyes opened amazed by what I saw, A beautiful new wall surrounding what lies in defeat A wall with no shadow to hinder or grieve A wall, clear like glass, so others could see, The garden unhindered by bitter defeat. This wall made by love with wisdom and grace. The gate is my master, protecting the way, and only those enter He brings my way. He knows I am lonely, His plans only He can say, In my spirit I am seeing one enter the gate, One He has let enter, I know not what to say, I must now make ready we may meet today.
Posted on: Tue, 21 Oct 2014 17:38:59 +0000