The Garden

Once upon a time I had a little garden. It wasn’t much, but I was proud of it. I spent my time planting beautiful flowers and shrubs, cultivating the plants and delighting in the landscape that I was creating. So what if it wasn’t the grand gardens that some people had? It was mine, and I loved every inch of it. From time to time, there was a Man who walked by my garden. I stood by my garden proudly, anxious to show off my handiwork and receive praise for the wonderful things that I had done with it. To my dismay, He only shook His head and said nothing. Then one day, something changed. Instead of walking by my garden, He walked right into the middle of it. I was so excited to finally have the chance to show Him my beautiful flowers, the attractive bushes that I had lovingly nurtured, and explain the landscape that I had painstakingly designed. But I could not open my mouth. I stood in silence as He looked over my garden. His eyes did not hold that same twinkling delight that mine did when I looked at it. Instead, there was a tender, loving sadness. In a moment, in a flash, I saw my garden through His eyes. What I had thought were beautiful flowers I now saw to be noxious weeds. The shrubs that I had so carefully nurtured were in reality wild brambles thick with thorns. There were big boulders that jutted out of the landscape at unpleasant angles. Poisonous vines ran wild throughout, choking everything that was good. I had spent my whole life working hard in that garden, and in a moment, it was shown to be what it was. It was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. Everything that I had thought was beautiful was brown and dead. I hung my head in shame. I knew this Man was a Gardener. I had seen some of His beautiful handiwork. I was so ashamed to have Him see my sad wreck of a garden. I expected Him to turn and leave my garden in disgust, or to give me a harsh scolding for what I had done. It would have been just. I deserved every harsh word and every punishment that might be given. As He turned toward me, I fell to my knees, expecting His wrath. Tears of shame poured from my eyes as I braced myself for what was to come. But instead, He looked at me with such love in His eyes. The Gardener lovingly held out His hand. I couldn’t even lift my head, but still He reached out a scarred hand to me – to ME, of all people! That is a day that I will never forget.

Things were different after that. From that day on, I was no longer the gardener. He was. He came with His tools and gently cut back the brambles. He pulled up the noxious weeds that I had once delighted in. He was so gentle and careful, and I could see the progress as He slowly began to remove the ugly vines that had once choked my garden. Over time I could see a real garden taking shape. What a world of difference from the chaos and disorder that it once was! I rejoiced to see the Gardener tenderly planting attractive flowers where the vines had formerly run wild. It seemed that every weed that He pulled out was replaced with some beautiful plant. What a delight it was to see the garden getting the right amount of sun and rain. He knew just what was needed at the right time! Then one day, He marched right into my garden with this horrible looking pickax. The thing was fearful looking, and I was afraid at what He was going to do. The Gardener went to this rocky place that had been hidden behind some shrubs, and began to strike at the rocky ground. The garden seemed to tremble with each blow of the pickax. It struck deep and broke up some of the big, sharp boulders that remained from my previous garden. I trembled with each painful blow, and when it was over, there was a huge cavernous hollow in the earth where one of the rocks had been. It felt good to have that out of my garden. I had tried to remove the ugly boulder myself, but had been unable to budge it. From time to time, the Gardener came back with that pickax, and though I dreaded each strike of the ax, I realized His wisdom in what He chose to do. After all, He was the Gardener! A season of much growth followed in the garden. Everything seemed to flourish! The right amount of sun caused everything to grow in abundance, and the refreshing rain brought the needed moisture. The Gardener was busy in the garden every day. He added fertilizer here and there, a little extra water on this plant, a little weeding there. Sometimes He took a plant out of the garden for a time, nurturing it for a while in His greenhouse, and then replanting it again when it had time to grow a bit. Sometimes a flower needed more shade, so He moved it in the shadow of a taller plant. He was so wise. So careful and tender with each and every plant!

One day I sensed a change. I had noticed something in my garden. Many of the plants had not bloomed for quite a while. There was still some green here and there, but the season seemed to have changed. The Gardener still came daily, but instead of the usual fertilizing, watering, and harvesting, He seemed to be letting some of the plants die. Then the Gardener came with His pruning shears. He had done this before to trim a little here and shape a plant there, but this time was different. With sharp precision, He cut branches off the trees - a lot of them! With what seemed to be a reckless hand, He razed some of the shrubs almost to the ground, leaving only stubs where beautiful bushes had once stood. Some of the loveliest bushes that had not borne fruit were cut all the way to the ground. Those sharp pruning shears cut off so many branches, that by the time He was finished, the pile of debris that He had removed appeared larger than the garden itself. I was stunned by what He had done. I cried “It’s too much! My garden will never survive!” It seemed that everything that He had worked toward was undone in a day. I had once thought my garden was beautiful, but I had been deceived. Then when the Gardener took over, He had made it truly beautiful. His loving hands had crafted something more lovely than I could have imagined. Now what had He done? Where beauty had been, everything was dry, dead, crushed, broken, and ugly. For the first time, I questioned His wisdom. I wept over what He had done in His garden – my garden! I felt an overwhelming sense of death and loss. What followed was a hard season. It seemed that the Gardener had ceased to care for my little garden. He still came daily, but it wasn’t the same. The season for flowers and fruit was over. He would come and sweep up dead leaves, look over everything, and tenderly touch a dead stub of a plant, but it seemed so meaningless. All I saw in my garden was death. I told Him my grief over what my garden had been, but He just smiled in His loving way and told me to wait. Every day I wept over that garden. I wondered how He could be so cruel and unfeeling. How could He come in and cut everything down that He had worked for? Didn’t He care anymore? It was all so painful and confusing! That was a hard time.

Then one day as I walked with the Gardener, He pointed to a dead plant. I looked, now resigned to seeing death where life had once been. To my surprise, there were green shoots growing from the stub of the plant. I was amazed! I thought that plant was dead! As I looked around, I saw that the trees that had their branches so brutally cut showed signs of healing. The scars were still there, but new branches were beginning to appear. Over the coming days and weeks, the garden seemed to come back to life. Every day I saw new leaves, new shoots, new life! What I had thought was a permanent death was just a season of dying, a season of winter. It had seemed so long, but now…life again! Over the coming weeks and months, the garden flourished. Those plants that had once been beautiful and then so severely cut down were stronger and lovelier than before. The pruning had not been to kill them, but to make them stronger and cause them to bear more fruit. The flowers and fruit in the garden were more plentiful than before. It was beautiful again. I had not been able to see what the Gardener saw. I saw death and the end of a season. He saw what the garden could be. I felt His fearful pruning and questioned His wisdom. He saw what was needed – a painful cutting away of the branches that robbed the life out of the plants. I saw the sharp edge of the spade and the ax, but He saw what needed to be broken and removed. I saw what was painful for a season, but He saw the end result. I could only weep for what had once been, but He rejoiced in what was to be. The Gardener knew what He was doing all along! In His infinite wisdom, the Gardener saw what will be some day – a beautiful garden, crafted by His hand, full of flowers and fruit, and exquisite in design. One day it will be a landscape that reflects the Gardener – no weeds, brambles, or unruly vines, those things that reflect the previous gardener – but someday its beauty will perfectly reflect His wisdom and design. For now, it’s a work in progress. He has weeds to pull, fallow ground to break up, and lots of pruning to do. Sometimes the work and seasons are painful for me. There are things that need to die and be pulled out. But I know He is making something beautiful in His time. To God be the glory!

“For the LORD shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the LORD; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.” Isaiah 51:3