Growing Doubt

If you’re going to plant something, make it your:
Reliance on God.

Don’t plant doubt. Doubt is a weed.
Grows fast and takes over everything.
No fruit or flowers can grow
With doubt around.

Doubt will have your well-maintained yard of confidence
Looking like:
A Jungle. Chaos. Hell.
In no time.

Who’s the:
Constant Gardener?

Holy Spirit

Doubt is like poison ivy:
Starts an itch that can’t be satisfied.

Once doubt takes over, I can’t stop it.
I’d have to burn my whole house down
To the ground
To beat it.

Scorched earth.
Have no worth.
I steal my mirth
With a Confidence dearth.

I can’t keep this yard on my own. Ask for help.
I’m an inexperienced novice with no skills.
No one ever taught me how to be awesome.
Everyone only reminded me of fear and failure.

God’s been doing this since the beginning of time.
OG-Original Gardener.
So pay attention.
Leave intention.

Oh, Petal. Doubt has no place
In a garden of self-esteem and worth.
Stop tearing up this dirt, sweating over the hurt.
Stop watering negativity with tears, bitterness, and concern.

We were made to blossom and thrive, Buttercup.
Don’t worry, Late-Bloomer.
Every plant has its cycle. Be patient.
Sometimes, the most rare flowers take the longest.

My value and worth aren’t earned.
Or learned.
They. Are. Inherited.
Passed down from my Father.

Genetic. Kinetic. Poetic. Prophetic.

No one can take it away.
No one. Not even myself.
Unless I give permission.
So how can I doubt that, Tulip?


Guest post by: Guy C. Maggio

Yesterday was my birthday and my husband wrote a poem for me. Best gift ever.
Plus, two dozen roses! I feel so lucky. I wanted to share because he is just as talented at writing, if not more so, than I am. I just have more time to be creative.

Today is her birthday.
She didn’t ask for much-
Just some flowers and nice words.

She never asks for much-
Just the hardest things for me give:

Simple gifts that cost nothing
But my ego and pride
Which I, shamefully,
Have treasured more than gold.

For forty and four sun-cycles
She has lived;
I’ve known her for nineteen of them
And lived with her
Longer than any other-
Even my own family.

She is
A writer, poet, teacher, and mother
My closest family and confidant.

She has
Loved, honored, and stayed with me
Even when I have not been
Loving, honorable, or companionable.

Today is her birthday.
She doesn’t ask for much-
Just some flowers
And nice words

And the hardest gift for me to find:
To be a better man.

She deserves the best.

Thanks, Guy. I love my presents. Our vacation was present enough, but you constantly amaze me. I know we frustrate one another, but the good times are better than anything.