In Hard Places

Published on 27 Feb 2017

by Meg Dixon


These frail shoots have sought, pushed

Through heard earth, blocking stones.

So too am I frail, seeking, pushing.

But the warm showers of Your love,

Your living waters,

Have softened hard ground,

Made way between stones.


And I own now the resting time

In hard places, stone blocked,

Needful to hold impatience, over-eagerness.

So was I, not trapped, held back,

But gently nourished

Till God’s time for my blossoming,

My becoming.


(written on 11th Feb 2004 at Loyola Hall after seeing mauve crocuses pushing through a bed of stony soil in February)