Sometimes I feel like an acorn
scattered by a great oak
washed down hillside and ravine
eluding raven, rodent, rot
eventually nestling safely
in God’s dear bosom
Long I lay dormant, wordlessly
nourished by His wisdom
watered by His truth
warmed by His love
patiently, expectantly
awaiting His Word
Then one day a great stirring
a light from within, a newness
as I shyly peek through the soil
as my tender stem and branches
reach meekly skyward
and my tiny leaves unfurl
Each morning I greet with hope and purpose
lodging bird and bee
breasting breeze and torrent
enduring drought, beetle, blaze
unfolding more of the wisdom, Love, and grandeur
from which I’m fashioned
As my true selfhood dawns
trunk and limbs grow strong
roots firm and deep
canopy broad and majestic
no longer looking up from earth
but out from on high
silently thankful for my humble station
and for God’s unwavering, tender care
for all His creation.
—Chris Jones
