There is a Garden in the Middle of Nowhere

In the middle of nowhere there is a garden.

Camelias, Daffodils, Irises, and Cherry Trees. Roses and Lavender, of course, and – somewhere – wild notes of Jasmine.

The most yellow yellow, the most heartbreaking pale pink, and more shades of green than can be dreamed.

Every texture, every size, overwhelmingly specific, unimaginably unique.

As I sit in the soot of whether or not I’m enough, I think about how these things were each birthed from a specific Mind.

Who is this Maker – powerful enough to hold all the universal intricacies and mysteries together, creative enough to dream up the tendril-like petals on each fringed Tulip, but whimsical enough to actually do it.

Can I find fulfillment in the only place it can be found? Can I receive the heart and the love of God which I see rolling from the tiny leaves of a fern or the brooding heart of a lettuce plant? He made these things. They are an expression of Himself, of His heart. Can I apply that heart to mine? Can I receive a love that I believe is there?...is here…

He made these things to express Himself, to glorify Himself, but He also made us able to partake. Senses with which to enjoy all of this were not required for our existence. He has given us the ability to participate.

And here is the clincher:

I have come to believe that if I was the only sinner,

He would still have lived and died…just to save me.

But do I believe He would have invited only me

To participate and enjoy the goodness of his art

And creative heart?

Perhaps this is a key, a step toward that coveted fulfillment…

To transcend any dream, any gap, any need, any nonsensical thought from an emotional swing.

Can there be a garden in the middle of nowhere?