i have been growing shallow roots vine infested, nectar infused paltry in pallet, paper thin, winding the line of grace-filled innocence hinding in the soil’s dark soaking up negligence, an excuser’s art, lapping the waters polluted by waste living in distracted days, lounging in the warm of dirt i’ve forgotten my purpose in this earth, dare i think of my stalks above shriveled and browned by the heat of the sun and the fruit and bud that never came for i decided to feast on the run off of grace rather then dig in deeper soil and find my way through rock and gravel to the springs of water deep underground that old voice have been telling about legends of forgotten days the fermented fragrance of ancient ways with the effervescence below and futility above the Root calls to my root "press in through the mud" the watery molecules of grace and earth the reality of what is me and you to the aching beauty below the sweetwater wisdom the song of the soul.
Yes, David, it is so true that it takes hard work, e.g. “press in through the mud…”, to grow well and deep in the Lord. Instead, it is so much easier to live a shallow spiritual existence as we chase the various distractions around. Thanks for sharing.
Yes, David, it is so true that it takes hard work, e.g. “press in through the mud…”, to grow well and deep in the Lord. Instead, it is so much easier to live a shallow spiritual existence as we chase the various distractions around. Thanks for sharing.