MEANT TO BE

Like a grain of wheat,

watered and waited,

I spring into this fertile day,

sown by the God of goodness,

bestrewn with the goodness of God.

I sprout, then sprint, then seed, then spread,

all by the calculus of the Creative One

from whom nothing is lost

and no word is wasted,

who, with the strong loving hands

of abundance and abandon,

works the rich black soil of my spirit.

Until, like Lutherans in Lent, I repent, I repent,

for committing the greatest of grievances:

forgetting that, like the rain and the snow

I, too, am heaven sent, and if heaven sent

then heaven meant.

Even in moments when I perceive it not,

there is meaning to my life;

there is power that rests upon me,

there is purpose that resides within me,

there is promise that roils about me,

not only to become, but also to beget.

Today’s poem is based on one of my favorite Bible scriptures...“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:10-11)