The Garden

I know that my God is building a garden. I’ve seen him tending it, too. He gently molds and crafts this beautiful mess of wildflowers and shade trees and more grasses than I’ve ever seen before. I still don’t know all that he’s growing here, but springtime has already begun to bring new life. 

Oh look, a lily! And some daisies over there. There’s sunflowers and snapdragons just waiting to burst forth with color. 

And then there’s the roses that still look much too pruned to bring back flowers anytime soon. And the tulips that are still buried beneath the soil, out of sight and almost forgotten about. 

Almost forgotten about—by me. But never forgotten by the gardener. He knows exactly what he planted and exactly where. He keeps track of all their days, nourishing new growth of each species in its own time. He gently tends and slowly grows each flower like it is the only one he has. 

Patience. That’s what I’m learning in this season. Learning to wait for growth and to trust the gardener. I’m learning that his bounds are far greater than mine when it comes to withstanding the wait. I want to rush to the part where it’s June and all the flowers are in full bloom but he says not yet, slow down, this season is important too. He teaches me about work and consistency and discipline and shows me how to celebrate each little win. He reminds me that not every flower is meant to bloom year after year, but he holds it all in perfect balance. 

So I will learn to rest in this place. I will learn to abide and to walk in the cool of the garden. I will trust the gardener and learn from his patience. And I will be grateful that he has invited me into this space. For this is the garden of grace.