Faith From Living

Our Garden

Like most people who live in the Valley of the Sun, and homeowners elsewhere, our home is surrounded with various types of vegetation that could be called a garden.  But we live in a patio home, and by most standards our yard and garden are pretty small.  Our garden doesn’t have vegetables like tomatoes and squash, but is mainly flowering plants like petunias, snap dragons, mums, and moss rose.  We also have a few African sumac trees for shade, a navel orange tree, several bougainvilleas, shrubs and desert plants.  In the early spring our favorite plants are our white Lady Banks rose, jasmine and navel orange, which explode with white blossoms and fill the air with a sweet fragrance. My wife and I especially enjoy the patio on cool spring mornings, when the air is heavy and sweet, and filled with the calls of morning doves, white winged doves, mocking birds, cactus wrens, house finches, brown towhees and thrashers.  On these mornings we soak in the goodness that surrounds us and fondly recall our Somali friend, Yussif, who called such times and places, “Food for the eyes and the soul.”

Perhaps this is why gardens, whether they are an oasis in a desert canyon, or just the corner of a backyard patio, are special places.  For gardens soothe our spirits and refresh our inner being.  They call us back to the time of Creation, when mankind dwelled peacefully in a garden in the presence of God. Gardens also seem to awaken our relationship with our Creator when it has grown stale.  In a garden we can hear the whisper of His voice in the cool gentle breeze, and our spirit is healed of the bruising suffered in the hustle and bustle of our daily routines.  Always in a rush, whether it be scurrying off to work, cramming meeting upon meeting, stopping off at the store, rushing from class to class at school or transporting kids to their many events.  We are the epitome of “Alice’s White Rabbit.”  Always on the run to another important date, leaving little time for ourselves and very few moments for our Lord

We have become slaves to our busy schedules, and we frequently deny ourselves essential healing moments.  Special moments, when one can physically feel the presence of the Spirit of God.  A moment in time, dedicated to slowing your pace and quieting your soul.  Leukemia has taught me to slow my pace, and our garden affords me the opportunity to sit quietly and commune with my Lord and God.   I, too come to the Garden while the dew is still on the rose, and in this special place I listen intently for His voice.  Perhaps that is why gardens are special; for it was in a Garden that we were created and it was in a Garden where we were redeemed.