Rooted in the Garden and Other Poems
by Elizabeth Houseman
ROOTED IN THE GARDEN
with inspiration from Ephesians 3:16-19 and Dael Kurti’s sermon “Growing Up into the Love of Christ”
I planted not the seed
nor watered dark the soil.
I shone no sun
nor breathed a fresh breeze.
But still my roots reach
far into the earth,
so storms blow me not away,
and droughts whither not my strength.
When life rains upon me,
and it seems I will be drowned,
You use that flooding
to further my growth.
With every word You speak to me,
those roots dig deeper still,
and as they stretch down,
flowers bloom above ground.
The air is sweet with their scent,
and fruit, rich and ripe, soon follows.
Because you buried me not
in dust or simple dirt,
not in the ground of this fallen world,
but in the Eden Garden
that is your love.
Solely, the sun could not keep me alive,
but the milk and honey
of your constantly kept promise
make for firm foundations
and full flowers—
not Morning Glories but Your Glory,
from a seed you planted,
and nurtured, and cared for,
Keeper of my Soul,
Caretaker of this Holy Garden.
HEAVENLY HEALING, EARTHLY BODIES
with inspiration from Isaiah 35:1-10 and Allan Kenitz’s sermon “The Ransomed Shall Come to Zion”
I think often of how I will feel—
body healed,
anxious mind cleared,
joy overwhelming,
causing tears to become rain
as I am lifted to the skies—
but let me consider now
how the Earth will feel then,
when it all burns down
in that holy cleansing fire.
Will she feel relief
when her diseased trees
quickly catch fire
and serve as torches
upward and inward,
branches and roots?
Will she be alleviated
of the tension she’s been holding
when her land is pulled apart,
and she no longer needs
to keep it all together?
Shall she be soothed
by that trumpet sound
that means she is finally free
from living as
a cursed ground?
And she must know
she’ll be made new,
better than the Eden
that God had called “good.”
Does the Earth take peace in knowing
her broken body will be destroyed—
will she also feel
that promised healing,
for which many of us long?
I consider it,
and consider again:
What will the Earth feel
on Judgement Day
when we come to Zion singing,
when we will be made new?
ELIZABETH HOUSEMAN
Elizabeth Houseman is a reader, writer, Christian, wife, and mom living in coldhearted Michigan. She has work featured in La Piccioletta Barca, Critical Read, The Way Back to Ourselves, and elsewhere. When she isn’t obsessively writing, she works as a freelance photographer. You can find her on Instagram and Threads at @bethyhouseman.