Rooted and Grounded

My Father’s acreage stretches to the horizon
further than a man on horseback
travels in a month,
land rich in flora
diverse in fauna
varied in topography
abundant in resources
lacking nothing

Still, I’m drawn to the fence–
pulled to the perimeter
the boundary fence my Father built
at my request
for my safety

I’m not fenced in
–they are fenced out
danger
threat
predator
enemies in the land

But the fence–
the land on the other side of the fence
the land my Father rejected
the land He considered
but passed over as not good enough
sometimes it calls

the inhabitants
beyond my Father’s boundary
urge me to come over
coax me to breach the wall

the dark places within me are stirred
I’m drawn
transfixed
wooed
then I remember

I recall the time
before the perimeter was established
before the fence was built
before my Father took over my protection duty
I got stuck in the sinking sand
mired in the mud
I couldn’t free myself
just beyond the meadow

Before the fence
it was hard to recall the boundary
I often lost track
of where my Father’s land ended
I wandered off more than once
He had to come for me

after my last foray
long days stuck in the pit
baking in the sun

I agreed to the boundary
I asked for the fence
I acknowledged my need

Something inside me is still drawn
to the fence
to what’s beyond the border
when my heart is heavy
when the past whispers
I climb up
and look over

My heart cannot but remember
the sweetness of my Father
His embrace
warmth of His arms
safety within His borders

I climb down from the wall
skip back to my Father

My home
My Shalom

Copyright 2019

For more information about resources available from the same author, visit RootedinHisWord.org