My Vineyard
This past Sunday, we were talking
with my in-laws about the allegory of the olive tree in the Book of Jacob. We
discussed how each of us has a unique part of the vineyard that we are working
in, and that it changes with our season of life. We can’t compare our vineyards
or our work with others, we have to follow the Spirit and do what it is we are
called to do. This got me thinking; what is my vineyard? Am I doing enough?
What can I do better?
I love to write poetic verse. It
really ends up being a jumble of thoughts on paper, but it helps me to
understand my testimony and myself. As I contemplated my own vineyard, this
is what I felt about my season of life. I shared these thoughts with my husband and he agrees that though our Vineyard may seem boring to some, it is a work we LOVE doing and a place we were made to be.
MY VINEYARD
My vineyard is small and quaint.
It sees few visitors, though all are welcome.
The work looks less like plucking branches and more like
dishes,
laundry,
singing,
reading,
praying over bowls of Cheerios,
and talking over casseroles.
The Master always keeps a close eye and offers a helping
hand on both sunny and rainy days.
My vineyard may look different than the vineyard of a full
time missionary,
a bishop,
or a loving grandmother.
My vineyard is that of a working mother.
The day’s work always looks different and the hours never
seem to cease.
I share the gospel with cranky coworkers in downtime conversation,
and I share the gospel with crying babies as I lull them to
sleep.
My home is a vineyard that I work in day and night.
It is a place of partnership and dedication.
We love,
and we gather,
and we prune away the things that draw us away from our
Master.
Here, the spirit does not sleep.
Here, the growing continues.
Here, we gather together as we gather His sheep.
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