I plant each grudge seed with care
I make sure to give plenty of space
Each plant needs plenty of air
I delete any pretence of grace
Grace only inhibits the growth in soil
It won’t allow the seedlings to sprout
Mercy only makes grudges spoil
So like weeds I pull them both out
At the harvest I have plenty to show
Though nothing that can feed or make well
But the grudges are in a nice row
Take a taste and experience hell
I know my garden serves no Godly reason
It does not help, heal or even make whole
And at the end of each planting season
I lose a little bit more of my soul
I had better let Christ tend my small garden
It would be best to let Him till the ground
The fruit that He grows is sin’s pardon
And life forever in Him is found
Mt 7:20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.
Joh 15:4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.