Walking in the Garden                                                 26 July 2015

I went for a walk in the Garden early this morning, delighted to spend time in my spiritual sanctuary among cool, green spaces.  Presently a stranger crossed my path and turned to walk alongside me.  “I think I’m in the wrong place,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” I asked him.  

“I was told that I would find heaven here,” he replied, “but I haven’t found it yet.  Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, I do.  It’s everywhere,” I smiled. 

“No,” he replied. “I’m sure you have that wrong.  I’ve been out there,” he swept his hand to indicate places beyond the Garden.  “And that is not heaven, not even close.”

“Do you know God?” I asked him.

“Well, I go to church every week, and I read the Bible.”

“Then I’m sure you’ve bumped into Him there,” I smiled again.

The stranger didn’t reply, but continued to walk beside me.  After a time of silence he asked, “Why do you say that heaven is everywhere?”

 “Perhaps I should correct that statement… heaven is where God is, and God is available everywhere.  So I should have said that heaven is available everywhere.  Yes, that’s better.”

“Well, then why am I having such a difficult time finding it?” he pondered.

“Did you come here to meet with God?” I asked.  A towhee trilled its pretty warble from an old stump by the side of the path.

“No… I guess I didn’t think of it like that… I came to find heaven.  You know, peace and healing and joy and all that,” he said.

“Ah.”

We walked in silence.  Suddenly he asked, “Do you know God?”

“Oh, yes!  That is, I know Him as a very close friend, and get to know more about Him every day.  There are still plenty of mysteries though!”  I smiled again.

“Tell me about Him,” asked my new friend.

“Absolutely!  Well, He is patient and kind.  He is never jealous or boastful or rude.  He’s not demanding, and He doesn’t anger easily at all.  As a matter of fact, He’s sort of forgetful, in a good way… He doesn’t remember my faults and my shortcomings.  It’s almost as if He sees right past them!

“He’s very sad when an injustice is committed, but when truth wins out, he celebrates wildly.  He never gives up on me, never loses faith in me, and He’s always hopeful that I’ll do the right thing.  And no matter what, He stays with me through thick and thin, even when I’m not the best of friends, or when I mess up.  He never fails me.  Ever.”

I laughed.  “He’s truly DIVINE,” I teased.

After another long silence, my friend turned to me.  “I want to meet Him,” he said.  “I want to know Him like you do.”

“Excellent!” I replied with a smile.  “He’s been waiting for you to say that.”

“Will you introduce Him to me?

“Why, I just did,” I answered.  “You have now met Him in me, and He’s yours, just for the asking.  Ask Him to come and live in you.  He’ll take it from there.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” I remembered.  “If you want to get to know Him, you’ll need to read some of those amazing love letters He wrote to you in your Bible!”

We said goodbye, and promised to meet again soon in the Garden.  As I wandered off toward my home, I heard the towhee’s pretty song again and gave thanks that I had walked that way this morning.

Mystery

A co-worker is getting married this weekend.  Our brief conversations on the topic caused me to remember my own wedding of almost 24 years ago—the planning, anticipation and finally, the big day.  Friends and family were shocked that I didn’t want a video of the ceremony, so much so that in the end I agreed to allow the reception to be video graphed.  (Those were the days before everyone had cell phone cameras and video capability.)  The fellow chosen for the job was a friend of a friend who kindly agreed to do it gratis, which was a good thing because the result was a swishing series of floor boards and shoes, with interludes of moments focused on my voluptuous friend Sharon’s lovely blue cardigan.

I didn’t want the ceremony captured for all time because I had the feeling that it would be ruined for me over the years if every detail was readily available for scrutiny and re-judgment.  I wanted to be able to remember it based upon my personal, inner experience, not for who was there and what they wore, not so much for what was said or the candles or the roses or the church.  I wanted it to remain a mystery—this life-changing union and promise.  I wanted the memory to be able to grow with our marriage, to be what we needed at the moment over the years.

There’s a lot to be said for mystery.  In mystery we find wonder, amazement, a sense of truth yet to be revealed.  In the face of mystery, we can choose to ponder, to consider what it’s all about, to meditate on new possibilities.

I love the mysteries of God!  I love the Trinity, three distinct yet united beings, one holy God.  I love the virgin birth, the mystical overshadowing of the Holy Spirit that produced the only offspring of the only Almighty universal being.  I love the miracles of Jesus, utterly unbelievable and yet we believe.

During the past Lenten season, I was asked to consider this question: “What if there had been a video of the resurrection?  What would we see?”  The thought completely unsettled me; I was appalled to think there could exist mean, crude proof of the greatest mystery of all.  I was repulsed and grateful that there was no such thing.  Mankind would have examined, analyzed, and debated every detail of the evidence, arguing every possible point to their own end.  How horrifying!

And yet, sitting here in my chair thinking about this, I realize that’s exactly what has happened anyway, without photographic record.  Even the early church argued over what happened and how, and families were split apart because of individual beliefs on the matter.  In the book of the Acts of the Apostles, we read that the reason a new 12^th man was chosen to replace Judas was because “one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.” [Acts 1:22]

After all, then, I am safe with my mysteries.  They can never be taken from me until the day I meet God face-to-face, when, as we are told by Paul, “then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” [1 Cor. 13:12]  Until then, I can still turn to my best friend and ask Him to explain things to me, to give me His perspective.  I can still nestle in to the mysteries of God and find a deep peace in my unknowing.

Out of the Garden, Onto the Curb                                                     October 25, 2014

I’m a clutter bug.  As a gardener, writer, crafter, reader, seamstress and quilter I accumulate little piles of things here and there until they take on a life of their own, moving silently when my back’s turned.  Books mysteriously sneak underneath a stack of quilting squares; I find garden catalog pages stuck in with the bills on my desk.

Honestly I do a pretty good job of keeping up with it all… at least, if you come over for a cup of coffee there are empty chairs for nestling (sigh.)  Nonetheless, I recently came to the conclusion that additional shelving and organization is required out in my sewing room.  Off to Lowes!

They actually have an entire section in Lowes called ‘home organization.’  Amazing.  I found the shelves that match those I currently have, thinking I would simply add two more sets to extend capacity for fabric, beads, song books, etc.  Yikes!  Shelves that once cost $35 were now almost $80—definitely not an option with my Saturday pocketbook after the bills have been paid.

“You’re not getting them?” my husband asked.  “Nope.  I’ll wait until God puts them on sale or shows me something better,” I replied.  (In my experience good things really do come to those who wait.)

A day later after church my honey left the house to run some errands.  Within five minutes he was back.  “Come on, get on the car, there’s something I want to show you,” he said.

A quarter mile down the street a couple was dragging old things out of their house and piling them on the curb for the trash men to take away.  Standing sturdily among the heap was an old, large, heavy dresser with six big and forlorn-looking drawers stacked nearby.  It had once been covered with a blond veneer (a ‘50s favorite) that had been stripped away from all but two of the drawers.

I could see that with good cleaning and a little paint (actually $38 for paint, new knobs and a little sandpaper) the dresser could be transformed “Can I buy this from you?” I asked the man.  “No, please, just take it away,” he replied.

Several weeks later I’m happy to report that at least one area of the sewing room is now clutter free, fabric having been sorted and stored in my ‘new’ clean white dresser.  Yay! 

How like the human condition… we once enjoyed the pleasures and safety of the Garden, so sure of Divine acceptance that we didn’t even ponder God’s love.  Along comes sin, and stripped of our veneer, we are tossed out of the Garden onto to the curbside, presumably at the end of any purpose or value.

We are rescued, cleaned up and given a new purpose and divine value—but here ends the analogy between my dresser and our lives.  In the reality of God’s kingdom on earth today, we are far more than just “cleaned up.”  Through the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit we are transformed, made brand new and shown the truth about our place in God’s eternal life!  We are given a revelation of God within us, and the peace that we are within Him, too, through Christ.  At last we can understand “the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”  (Colossians 1: 26 and 27)

Spring at Last

Yay!  It’s spring and I’m back in the garden, making up for lost time after a very hot fall and a colder than usual winter…

In the side garden I had let the fall weeds grow up into the shrubs and hedges, now paying the extra price because it’s harder to extract them when they’re brown and brittle and thoroughly intertwined.  (I’ve not been a faithful gardener this past year.)  Ruellia stalks are everywhere, English ivy went on a rampage, and scads of wild raspberry vine had built no mean empire right under my nose, except that I was looking the other way.

Armed with a long-sleeve shirt and long pants, my pruners and clippers and pruning saw, I had plenty of yard trash bags just waiting to be filled.  God supplied an absolutely lovely day (low 70’s, low humidity and a wash of spring sunlight) so no reason to delay the inevitable!  I pulled out crab grass, Spanish moss, blue-eyed grasses and sticky vine.  Virginia creeper and some unknown leafy “weed” (ULW) were added to the piles along with sweet gum, camphor and oak seedlings (anyone need some trees?)

Some of these things popped right out of the damp ground when I pulled, but others were a little trickier.  In the liriope hedge I bent down and very carefully extracted the hundreds of ULWs, which easily snapped off just above the soil, leaving long roots in the ground if I didn’t pull just right.  Newly sprouting raspberry vines hid from view under the rose shrubs and azaleas, and sticky vines and wild peas attached to other plants so that when I pulled them their roots also remained in the moldy mulch. 

It occurred to me as I worked that these little guys were a great analogy for the weeds that can choke our lives in God’s spiritual Garden—how important it is to get a good grip on them and make sure the roots are extracted with the plant so there’s nothing to grow back.  It’s so easy to take up the electric hedge trimmers and trim the hedge, lopping off the obvious green briars and other things that poke out the sides and top without taking the time to go into the hedge and get them out by the roots.  A faithful gardener does this, for it assures that the hedge will be clean and healthy for decades to come.

God is a faithful Gardener (John 15:1.)  His Holy Spirit points out the weeds (AKA strongholds) in our lives: perfectionism, envy, laziness, jealousy, pride, a judgmental or complaining spirit, among others.  When these things are too far grown up in our Garden-life, it’s amazing how comfortable we become with their presence, often never seeing them for what they are—weeds of evil that entangle us and take us down.  (Remember that evil is ‘live’ spelled backwards; sooner or later evil brings about death.)

The Good News is that God is waiting to be allowed to come into our Garden and remove—with our permission—these contrary growths, reaching all the way down for the last tiny root and then applying His balm of healing in its place.  We can trim the hedge on the outside, continue to “look good” to others, and feel miserable inside OR we can let Him help us become renourished and ready for a spring and summer full of good growth and peace in His blessed light.

As we remove the big weeds, it becomes easier to see the smaller, more ubiquitous weeds hiding underneath, and with our soil tilled daily by His hand these are quickly removed, too.  Keep a short account with your weeds--  I can tell you after 6 hours in today’s garden, I’m counting on God’s power to be able to walk upright tomorrow!  I praise Him because He is faithful in every way :o)

Eden’s Swamp                                                                  August 17, 2013

The Garden has become a swamp!  Surely all creation has purpose and value, but I’m having a difficult time in these dog days of summer finding any in my part of the Garden… We’ve had an extremely rainy season (i.e. 14 of the past 16 days this month alone) and our yard, woods, vegetable, herb, and flower gardens have turned into mushy, gooey, slimy habitats for slugs, worms, snails, and some kind of black, flat slippery thing that stretches as it moves across the wet bricks and moss.

The weather has been so HOT (upper 90’s) and HUMID (100% humidity)—those sultry Southern summer days that you only want to read about—so I’ve been staying inside almost all the time for the past two months.  (Hence the lack of garden blog activity, please forgive!)

I stepped out onto our back deck this morning, careful to balance on the slippery wooden floor. (I fell last week when my sneakers slid out from under me.)  Looking down I noticed a strange white blob, which upon closer inspection turned out to be a large slug that had apparently GOTTEN TOO WET AND DIED.  Really?

After walking the dog earlier today I returned to the house, drenched in soggy sweat, and realized that I had forgotten to bring my key.  No one else was home; the door was locked, so I went to a corner of the yard where I knew we had a hidden key.  Could I find the container it was in under the dense jungle overgrowth of vines and ferns and grasses?  It took me almost 20 minutes of clawing aside vegetation, mosquitoes and God-only-knows-what before I found it.

Soaked and exhausted, I rested for a minute on the porch swing.  As I calmed myself down I began to observe the porch, front steps and walkway.  Along both sides of the cement walk plants have grown thick and green, a lush wall of jungle.  The brick steps are covered with several types of moss, bunches of small ferns sprouting from crevices and cracks, and sneaky vines snaking across the surface in full knowledge that once discovered, they will be ripped out without remorse.

A six-inch five-lined skink emerges from the aspidistra, slinking across in pursuit of an insect that has crawled up on the bricks to the right.  Zebra longwing butterflies flit over the vines and plants near the railing and iridescent dragonflies hang suspended in the muggy vapor over the yard, looking for a place to alight.

At one time in my life I would have been overwhelmed with all of the summer work to be done in the garden.  How can I possibly keep up with it?  But after almost 9 summers here in Tallahassee, I’ve learned to cut myself some slack, use the “furnace months” to stay inside and get some sewing done, write, do some specialty housecleaning—things that have to be done inside in a cool, air-conditioned space.  Guilt-free about the garden, which happily goes about doing what it’s meant to do: grow.

There’ll be plenty of time for pruning, weeding, clipping, planting and enjoying soon enough, when October’s cool fronts begin to pass through and clear the air once again.  For now, I’m getting up and dragging out that quilt I’ve been working on—time to pin it together and get it onto the machine!  Thank you, Lord, for all the seasons, and for the patience and strength to enjoy each in its unique way.