“Oh, Bummer, I forgot who I was”,
I heard the small boy say,
as his mother reminded, with sternness,
his response to the lesser way.
Obviously, a women of very great wisdom;
To point out so quickly his wrong decision.
How this must have pleased The Father;
To see His son trained to go;
To give understanding, influencing his choice,
and watch his spirit grow.
How many times throughout the day,
do I reproduce His Spirit?
How many times, being given this charge,
do I even choose to hear it?...
Or, more accurately stated,
destroy planted seed
and not let the blade appear;
Then, try to blame God
for not keeping His Word,
when I don’t see the fruit on the ‘ear’.
Contrary Mary, was asked the question:
How does your garden grow?
So, I judge myself and ask the same question;
Is it ever too late to know?
Does My Cross extend beyond yesterday,
In eternity past and future?
Retro-active blood for the one that I love;
Judged actions can then be nurtured....
Just like the wise mother, life again starts to flow,
from the root to the blade and the ear;
I’ll ever, thou sternly, remind you of this:
Who you are and there’s nothing to fear.
Unlike Mary, My garden always grows;
Because, like My Ground, yours is fertile;
It’s My very nature to multiply;
So, together, We’ll leap every hurdle.
I carefully watch and pull out every weed;
That at times, I know, can feel grievous;
But, what a harvest, My Righteous One,
What peace, when the enemy leaves us!
Like the little boy said, “I forgot who I was”;
And, like him, you’ve forgotten too.
Like the mother, I’m here to remind you of this;
As that little boy was you.