Who can sit in a garden and not feel the stir of a piece of Heaven?
I garden. I plant flowers in hopes that they will bloom. For the most part, they do, unless the deer have feasted upon the bounty. I garden by trial and error and gathering of knowledge through books, magazines and friends. And though it may be frustrating at times, I continue to garden.
I garden, therefore I am. When I garden or "play with my flowers", I feel so very close to God, to the One who created all the beautiful things of this world, and the not so beautiful. I feel close to Him as I dig in the dirt, my hands void of gloves and my feet bare to the coolness of the earth beneath them and to the warmth the sun provides from above.
I garden. All of life began in a garden and perhaps those of us who plant flowers or vegetables or just enjoy the tranquility of digging in the dirt are merely trying to reach back to our beginnings in the Garden of Eden. Reaching for our God, connecting with Him, maker of all things.
"The Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and placed there the man whom He had formed. And from the ground the Lord God caused to grow every tree that was pleasing to the sight and good for food, with the tree of life in the middle of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and bad." --Genesis 2:8-9
I garden. I dig in the dirt and love the smell and the feel upon my skin. I love the blooms that come after the work. And I love sitting amongst the blooms feeling satisfied. And I wonder, is this how God felt on His day of rest? Pure satisfaction as He walked in His garden?
"Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day..." Genesis 3:8
I will someday walk with God in His Garden.
God's Garden by Robert Frost
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: "To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end."
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: "To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end."
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
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