In My Garden


In My Garden

In my garden are treasures

of timeless beauty from above

where the Gardener bids me linger

as He showers me with Love


In my garden is a Tree

that offers healing fruit

where I often come to taste

of His Wisdom and His Truth


In my garden is a choir

of birds and angels who sing

reminding me itโ€™s all about Grace

and thereโ€™s nothing I need bring


In my garden I meet the Savior

ย Who is eternally mine

and I’m embraced by nail-scarred hands

of purist Love Divine.






My garden is the first place I go to when I hear overwhelming news of goodness or grief.

After my dad died back in November of 1998, I went into my winter garden and prayed to my Heavenly Father and talked to my dad.

Iโ€™m not saying that my dad could hear me, but my Father heard me.




My cozy woman cave, in our attic, is the garden I go to each morning. The walls have stenciled wisteria vines on it that the dear previous owner painted. The small cot is covered in floral quilts my mother and I have made. And the nature art portfolios of mine grace the desk as a reminder for me to spend more time in creative pursuits according to what the Creator has gifted me.

I need my time with the Gardener of my heart. Itโ€™s the place where I invite Him to weed out the negative beliefs and behavior that can choke healthy growth and fruitfulness. Itโ€™s the place where I confess and am blessed by forgiveness.

~ It’sย a harvest of love, joy and peace. ~




Where’s your favorite place to meet with the Keeper of your soul?

Blessings from my garden ~ Wendy

Have you visited my Writing Room yet? You’re invited anytime you have a moment or two. Just click on the link here or on the sidebar.

You’re invited to visit the post I did earlier this week on my other blog.

Here’s the link: Ode to Autumn

Very early in the morning,

while it was still dark,

Jesus got up,

left the house

and went off to a solitary place,

where he prayed.

Mark 1:35