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SWEETNESS OF THE HEART

A gardener desires, plans, plants. A lot of preparation goes into the groundwork -- making rows, planting and watering. Then comes faith -- waiting to see what becomes of the work.

Little plants growing alike and in rows. Some make it and others don't. The gardener continues to nurture, fertilize and water. The plants produce fruits or vegetables.

As the plant is growing, it might not look like something that could produce a tasty fruit, but the faithful gardener continues his work till the harvest. Then the first fruits or vegetables appear and show signs of ripening ... wait until perfection ... then, experience the taste of one's work! How great and awesome is the taste!

Even at the end of the season, that a plant so dreary and wrinkled could produce from the heart of the plant such a wonderful product! The joy and satisfaction one wants to share with others!

How then does this compare with our Father in Heaven? Does he not desire, plan and plant? Does he not do the groundwork for our lives? He provides the opportunities for us to grow spiritually and in faith. We have his nurture, his words of the Bible to help us grow. We have the everlasting water of His salvation that we will never thirst again.

Do we look like we have fruit, from the outside? Old and wrinkled or young and growing? Once one speaks, it reveals the sweetness of our fruits from the heart.

Do we not share our fruits with others? Sweet or sour, once revealed, we have influence on each other. Shouldn't our heart be pleasing to God and others all the time?

We should share the sweetness of God's saving salvation with others so that we all can have a pure heart and others can grow spiritually and produce sweet fruit from their heart as well.

by Darian Jones MY FRIEND, JAKE One of my best friends was named Jake; He hardly ever spake. Had one eye and could hardly see, but he was always there for me. Old Jake was never in a bad mood. All he needed was love and a bone to chew. He loved the young and old alike, But he wouldn't back down from a fight. He lived a Gypsy life and liked to roam, As he would travel from home to home. Always a friend and never a foe. He just had some wild oats to sow. Old Jake is gone now and it's quite a loss. When he was around he was the boss. Tears form and it's like a fog. I can't think of Jake as just a dog. by Dwayne Garner AGELESS Just an old poet With a scratchy old pen Held in an unsteady hand. But, gently from the heart's store, Words still flow smoothly As the whisper of shifting sand. by Dorothy Miller Birdwell