Budding

I found a poem I wrote over 4 years ago in my journal today that is even more meaningful to me now than it was when I first wrote it.

Like the winter branch of the oak tree
I stand before You naked and exposed
You who created me know my innermost self
The rot and disease that has crept in
My foundational desire to be better--more holy

Even in the winter You protect me
The sun still shines on me
Sometimes my roots cling to the frozen ground
Yet I long to be in Spring Eternal
Continual regrowth, becoming new, being changed

Force my leaves to bud if needed
Help me get beyond the winter
Let me become what You designed me to be
To fulfill my purpose, my destiny
Standing tall, soaking up the sunlight