on faith and the gardener

Tomorrow he would start the garden,

The one in the garage,

I had no hope that it would cure,

I had hope enough that it would heal,

My brokenness, our brokenness 

The brokenness in her, in us, in the family.

At the least, it would return her appetite and

Help ease the transition in the next few months. 

The Gardener was angry with me, angry that I was making plans,

To live our life, the children’s lives, without her.  

He had the faith, not I.

He had seen the miracle, before and would see it again.

This then was his task, to cure her cancer and my lack of faith.

Time is past the miracle has come, and I am grateful for the Gardner 

And how he restored my wife’s heath and my faith in the cure.