The Garden | A poem about my crisis of faith

The Garden

The garden in my yard is dead. 

 Within a stony wall enclosed, 

an iron gateway marks its head, 

 a dusty riverbed through it flows. 

Where once a lush green blanket crept, 

 a prickly carpet lies inert. 

Cadaverous vegetation rots 

 and reveals beneath it barren dirt. 

The orchids, bushes, herbs and pompons 

 reach in cracked and torrid coils - 

like stretched-forth fingers of some person, 

 buried alive beneath the soil. 

The planter boxes turned to caskets, 

 the flower pots to urns and ashes. 

Petrified trees stand in packets 

 with skeletons for their branches.

In my neglect I’ve need repent, 

 alone I lack the knowledge and grace. 

But life, I fear, has far been spent, 

 with sickness thriving in its place. 

Why has the garden seen this fate? 

 The answer crawls beneath my skin. 

The Gardener stands without the gate, 

 if only I would let him in. 

- Taylor Yorgason

The Analogy

In the last few years, I have slipped in and out of faith. I used to joke that, "I leave the church at least once a month!" 

And that isn't to say anything negative or final about my faith in Jesus Christ, or my testimony of the restored Gospel. On the contrary, my testimony is quite strong! After all, would I still be here if it wasn't?

Still, my conviction in the gospel principles has occasion to waver. One day in church, during one of these times, a speaker gave the following analogy: 

"Think of your testimony as a garden. Within your garden, you have not one, but an abundance of vegetation. Each flower, tree, and shrubbery requires constant nourishment to stay alive. 

"Every so often you will discover that a particular bush or flower is suffering a little. It does not mean that your entire garden is suffering, does it? No! So do not panic, but remember that this one may need some extra care for a while. 

"So it is with our faith in the gospel. Each of our testimonies is a sum total of many smaller testimonies. Every once in a while, we may find that one of these smaller testimonies is suffering.

"There is no need to panic for the well-being of your 'whole' testimony. Just remember that this principle in which you find your faith lacking will need some extra nourishment for a while."

My Crisis of Faith

At this juncture in my life, I thought about the well-being of my "garden." I became afraid and discouraged, because I could find nothing that was still alive. As I sat in the pews and pondered my plight, I penned this poem. 

It came to me like a revelation, as if the words were being given to me by the Holy Ghost himself. As I came to the last stanza, the poignant truth of the final line went through my heart like a javelin from Teancum. 

And it still does, every time I read it. 

We are not our own gardeners. In order to maintain the gardens in our souls, we need help from the master Gardener himself: the Lord, Jesus Christ. 

This was several years ago now, and I admit that I still haven't nourished my whole garden back to health yet - but I have let the Gardener in, and together we've worked on some of my deepest-rooted trees. Yes, many others may still be suffering, but my garden is not all lost, and neither is yours. 

So go ahead, and let the Gardener in. I promise, you'll be happy you did. 

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

God be with you 'till we meet again!

Sincerely, 

    Taylor, a dead missionary