The Desert Flower

“Oh God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh thirsts for you; as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1 (NIV)

The harsh desert winds blow
Bringing dryness and death
The budding flower begins to crack
As its moisture rises in a fine mist

There is no shelter from the whipping winds
The flower’s soft petals are ripped off
The opulent pink torn into brown shreds
Its leaves are snatched out of its weak grasp

The dry winds ease and the swirling sands drop
And the flower sees what it has become
It is nothing but a skeleton, a twisted scarecrow
It has dried up from the root
It slowly begins to curl up and die

One day news comes through the whispering sands
A cloud the size of a man’s hand has been seen
The flower scoffs
Could such a pathetic rainfall revive it to its previous glory?

The shadow falls
The sky goes black
And the rain drops begin to fall

Streams of water begin to trickle down the dunes
The fresh water pools around the plant
And seeps down deep into its roots
The flower drinks it furiously
And feels life restore to it once again

“Praise be to the Lord for he has heard my cry for mercy.” Psalm 28:6 (NIV)

Image of Desert Rose #3 by Philip Bouchard, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The Puppet

The strings are pulled delicately
Sending the puppet into a dance
Its flailing limbs are powerless to resist
The taunting commands of its captor

But my God You saw me in my humiliation
And Your heart lurched for me
You cut me free from what trapped me
The entangled lies You cleared from my mind

You strengthened my weak arms
And empowered my trembling knees
My hardened heart You took in Your hands
Gently You healed the scars of my tragedy

Now I no longer dance to circus music
Now my heart is moved by an orchestra
A crescendo which comes from God’s heart
Which brings tears to my eyes
And to which I cannot help but dance


I am designed by You God
And You do not make a bad thing
Out of a million configurations
You came up with me
And it pleased You to bring me into existence

But the world tells us we’re worthless
Unless we fit its mould
And submit to its image of perfection
So like sheep we follow
And we learn to be ashamed of ourselves

So instead of embracing who we are
We lock our uniqueness away
Burying it where no one will find it
And it rots away

But this was not what You intended
To hide the gift You gave us in a box
To live our lives behind a mask
Thinking that we’re broken
Because we’re different

So I will thank You for my every part
For the parts I love and the parts I dislike
Because in all You will be glorified

Image of Puzzled by Tatinauk, CC BY-ND 2.0