A Stone From His Garden Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

A LITTLE STONE FROM HIS GARDEN

I took a walk in The Garden
In which my Jesus prayed,
Where blood dripped from His every pore
And innocent nerves were frayed.

I felt His presence around me
Felt His love within my heart.
I kneel beside a lonely tree,
Pick up a stone 'fore I depart.

So many years ago that was,
That stone now worn so smooth,
But when I need it the very most
That stone, my nerves, does soothe.

I carry it with me everyday
To feel my Lord so near
And when I rub it the very most
My Savior, I do hear.

He tells me that He loves me,
That for my sin He died,
And from His glorious presence
I no longer have to hide.

And when I touch it's smoothness
A sense of peace I feel,
For the little stone from His Garden
Makes everything so real.

And when doubt seems to flicker
Or when I need Him more
I put my hand in my pocket
And rub that stone, Yes, His for sure.

Just a tiny little symbol
One of forgiveness and great pardon
A small symbol of the peace He gives
Just a little stone from His Garden.

Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

11-26-06
By Ms. Caroline


© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)