She’s the only one who waits her turn. She makes no demands. She shows patience and grace as she stands in disarray with her head hanging low and arms weak at her sides. Yet, with merely a glance, she rewards me with her bounty, her beauty and fulfillment at the end of the day. She gives and never takes. She’s my sacred little space beyond the gate set aside to create, to change, to grow and to dream. But, most of all, to feel His presence.
“And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so.”
(Genesis 1:11) NIV
It’s where blessings flow; where a childhood of garden memories hover and mingle with the flutter of wild finches and visiting ring-neck doves. They, too sense the life taking place, drawn by the flow of the fountain. It’s in the birth of dreams and the joy of creating a space that both satisfies and glorifies.
I’ve kneeled there. I’ve found healing in the soil, a stirring that calms and breathes life back into the spirit.
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.”
(Matthew 6:28-29) NIV
I believe we all have our “thing,” that one something we know and rely on that wakes us up on the inside and breathes life back into our souls.