Of Air, Vessels, and a Garden of Grace

Three poems. Bringing the might of nature to a ternary of written worship.

Spencer Beadle
3 min readJun 2, 2022


The Word has an intense, almost violent impact on one’s spirit. One stroke of fear prompts me to open the psalms and declare words spoken for millennia before the God of creation. The impact of such words triggered me to rest for thirty minutes. “Selah” has a tangible bodily impact. Spirit rests. And I awoke with inspiration to worship through words only I could express.

I present three poems, written after a quarter hour in the psalms.

Beyond Air

Words fail me, O Lord;
My heart desires to sing,
But my mind cannot fathom you,
Beyond temporal limits,
Outside the lands on which I walk.

I have life because you are the reliever.
You set me free,
From fear and anxiety,
So that I may praise you.

I breathe afresh.
You are above the air,
Even without oxygen,
I can inhale you,
And with oxygen,
I cry to you
Yaweh. Selah.

Golden Vessels: Ashes, Perfume, and Dirt

You embellish the ugly,
With gold that holds broken pieces,
Of a vase,
Filled with trauma,
Made priceless not by its contents,
But by the testimony of their purchase.

Honour this vessel,
For it is made for you.
To be destroyed under your grace,
As worship, a story
To share of your goodness.

Strengthen me to steward,
Ashes, perfume, and dirt.
A garden of grace,
Watered by mercy,
Nourished by the light of your Son.

Don’t ignore the stench of dirt,
The messiness of ashes,
And intensity of perfume.
Instead, I implore you:
Fertilise this dirt
With fire and nutritious ashes
And sweet smelling fragrance
Bring life to this garden.
Make my life a garden worthy of your name.

An Ecosystem: Garden of Grace

Create within me an ecosystem of complexity.

Grace me with filtered light,
For the sun is too hot.

In darkness,
Transform me into
A euphony of photosynthesis.

As rain falls,
Help me endure drowning,
So that I may withhold water
Sustaining me in seasonal droughts.

May a waterfall
Of contradictory trauma,
Crash upon this rock.
May your power smash the unbreakable
To reveal absolute sublimity.

Nature does not consciously breathe,
For it trusts the air you give.
Accordingly, may this garden inhale rest
And exhale prayers of thanksgiving.
An interconnected web of art
That was, is, and continues to be… life.

For it is this purpose I pray
It sustains the hungry,
Gives shelter to the homeless,
With seven times seven blessings,
May miracles and love surround this place
Of peace
Opunto a great garden called grace.

As plants express worship above surface
May their roots delve confidently in darkness,
Because they know they face Son,
An ever shining light,
To life interconnected and
Sustained by grace through fearless faith.

Deepen and strengthen this core,
Facsimiles of sustenance and staple,
Overflowing and blessed,
Refined by flood and fire,
Cherished by the caretaker.

Evidence of greater beauty,
Perfect beyond comprehension,
Grant this garden patience to grow,
Into destiny written in the book of life.

Steward this garden,
With hands and feet like Jesus,
To reveal Your glory.

Dirt, ashes, and fragrance loved,
Blooming in magnificent devotion.

A garden adored by grace.



Spencer Beadle

Fascinated by anthropology, philosophy, theology. Wish to learn about every type of human out there.