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A Prayer at the Garden’s Edge

 

Lord, this morning You gave me quiet work—

to finish clearing the weeds around my home.

And when the last weed was pulled,

the world seemed to open,

and the air felt newly given.

 

As I carried my pruning shears back inside,

I saw the rhododendron before my door,

Its fallen blossoms resting on the garden floor

like gentle offerings.

 

And in that moment, a thought rose within me:

Even when flowers fall,

They fall with their beauty still upon them.

 

But, Lord, why is it

that so many lives fall in bitterness,

in disgrace,

leaving behind only the shadow of their failure?

 

And so I stand before You and ask:

Teach me to fall with grace,

to finish my days with the beauty You give,

to leave behind not shame, but the fragrance of a life held in Your hands.

 

Amen.