My Garden

My Garden: A Symbol of My Life

My garden is nearly finished. Only a few adjustments are needed, but already I can visualize my stroll through this nine by 20 foot paradise. It is a Feng Shui design meant to draw people in, make them feel comfortable with just the right amount of inspiration, invigoration, and relaxation.

I enter the garden from the west where a Lemon Drop Lantana reminds me of the carefree days of childhood. I follow the flagstone path as it curves southward where my small horizon is filled with shades of red. Muhly grass flutters its purpley feathers in the breeze, and the flowers of the Hot Lips Salvia purse their petals for each hummingbird that arrives. The Agave stands majestic and confident as if it claims the title of Garden Magistrate, and behind it a Firebush heats up this corner that represents my attitude about wealth.

The flagstones keep me a safe distance from the Agave with its sharp-as-a-knife leaf tips and the excessive invigoration that all that red can bring. At my feet, the White Trailing Lantana provide refreshing relief from the energy of the south, and the brass reindeer and sleigh recall Christmas. The white flowers of the lantana provide the snow, and my memories recall the joy of one of my favorite times of the year.

My virtual journey continues, as the reds cool to the copper of a Dwarf Copper Plant and the abundant greens of a Red Yucca, a Turks Cap, and a Shrimp Plant. The scattering of flowers in shades of red make the butterflies and hummingbirds my long-term guests, but it is the green of these plants on the east side of the garden that speak the loudest to me. They represent my attitude toward family, and green says "stability."

Set into this "family" environment is my white perching rock, and I stop for a moment of peace and meditation. Nearby, I hear the baritone melody of wind chimes and watch a butterfly enjoy cool repose on a rock in the Butterfly Bath. Soon my virtual journey will end, but for now, I find peace in the Indigo Salvia facing me from the north and the carpet of Asian Jasmine covering the center of the garden. A glimpse of the New Yellow Trailing Lantana and the Whirling Butterflies (Guara Plant) in the northwest corner bring me a moment of humor.

I have found excitement, security, and peace with joy and humor acting as bookends to my journey. My flagstone path has ended, and I must find an exit. There, below my feet is the rockbed of a virtual dried up creek, and it leads me to the "shore," the driveway to my front door.

My garden is all that I had hoped it would be: A symbol of my life: Family first, then friends, companions, relationships filled with joy and humor, a sense of moderation when it comes to wealth and fame, and God's peace that surpasses all understanding filling every aspect of my life. In the virtual world, we experience the paradise we would like to have in the real world.

My God, Why Have I Forsaken You?

Psalm 22 says, “My God, my God, why have you deserted me?” A question I can’t ask, because more often than not, it seems to me to be the other way around: My God, my God, why have I deserted you? Each morning, I decide to spend more time with God, listening for Him, talking with Him, reading and studying to become wiser in how to trust him, how to be merciful to all others, and, most of all, how to have a pure heart.
Each evening, I close my final prayer promising to move closer to God the next day, but the next day is no different from the previous. I hurriedly dress for my morning walk, squeeze a little gardening in between breakfast and morning chores or errands. In no time, lunch needs to be spread on the table, and a kitchen must be cleaned from morning meals and dirtied in preparation for the evening meal.
The afternoon? I must answer e-mail where I find temptations to work on my family history, to explore the latest Gaither or Ernie Haase music, or meet obligations for Covenant’s archives or one of my groups. If none of these begs my attention, certainly family and daily responsibilities do. In any case, time to read, meditate, or listen for God rarely arrives. So, rather than me, it must be God who is saying, “I call all day, but you never answer.”
The Sabbath, that day to keep Holy and Wholly for “Space with God,” is no different. Even now, I write, but it is frustration writing, not meditative writing. I want more music, singing praises to God, but I fear embarrassment if I play or sing alone, and I don’t find running away to be an appealing alternative.
Time WITH God, Space FOR God, both are more elusive than love. Are “God” and “Love” synonymous?