The Wreath
A friend of mine whose grapevine died, had
put it out for trash.
I said to her, "I'll take that vine and
make
something of that."
At home the bag of dead, dry vines looked
nothing but a mess, but as I gently bent
one vine, entwining ' round and 'round,
A rustic wreath began to form, potential did
abound
One vine would not go where it should,
and anxious as I was,
I forced it so to change its shape, it broke
-
and what the cause?
If I had taken precious time to slowly
change
its form,
It would have made a lovely wreath, not a
dead vine, broken, torn.
As I finished bending, adding blooms,
applying trim,
I realized how that rustic wreath is like my
life within.
You see, so many in my life have tried to
make
me change.
They've forced my spirit anxiously, I tried
to rearrange.
But when the pain was far too great,
they forced my fragile form,
I plunged far deeper in despair, my spirit
broken, torn
Then God allowed a gentle one that knew of
dying vines,
To kindly, patiently allow the Lord to take
His time
And though the vine has not yet formed a
decorative wreath,
I know that with God's servants' help one
day when
Christ I meet,
He'll see a finished circle, a perfect gift
to Him.
It will be a final product, a wreath with
all the trim.
So as you look upon this gift, the vine
round
and complete,
Remember God is using you to gently shape
His wreath.
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