He took her to a garden to show her how life should be.
Flowers thriving effortlessly, foods growing in the soil… the Sun never scorched and creation echoed love day and night. Though skeptical at first, it wasn’t long before she was entirely captured by its beauty. The workers of this garden possessed thumbs of the brightest green she had ever seen.
“What secrets do they hold?” the girl wondered, “How does one make thriving seem so natural?”
For the girl too was from a land where gardens were believed in, but tilling was difficult and blooming was rare. Flowers had been seen by her eyes, but pale in color and puny in size compared to all that now surrounded. Like eating a tomato in season or beholding the greens of Irish land, for the first time the girl knew that this garden was a place where creation existed in its full potential.
And He walked in the garden with her, and the two of them explored, discovered, and appreciated. Pieces of the environment that never caught her eye before somehow pierced her heart and stopped time. The girl learned that small moments and seemingly mundane things would change you the most if you let it.
Soon she knew that she was so similar to the flowers all around – in full bloom, naturally thriving, breathing in the love that creation echoed day and night.
And the possessors of the thumbs of the brightest green taught the girl to till the land and explained the needs of creation. So many lessons the workers taught the girl were not skills to aquire, but sleeping things already inside of her heart. They would teach, and their lessons would whisper, “Wake up!” She knew that she too was made to be a worker of the garden.
But seasons change and time runs out, and one day the girl was ripped from the garden – sent back to the land where tilling was difficult and blooming was rare.
The climate was colder here – the land dry and hard instead of rich and soft, ready for seeds. In some ways, the girl still couldn’t comprehend why gardens seemed like more of a dream than a reality in this land, but in other ways, she could see the problem.
“These people, these weary people, believe they are fertilizing the ground, but instead, heap weed killer onto the places they work. They believe they are crying out for rain, but are releasing ice and snow in their actions.”
For a short time the girl extended her help, sharing what the possessors of the brightest green thumbs had taught her – telling stories of flowers that bloom effortlessly and sun that never scorches and creation that echoes love day and night.
It’s a peculiar thing when the solution to a problem is discovered. It means accepting that what you’ve practiced for quite awhile may have been wrong all along, and no one likes wasted time. The Maker of gardens and all things beautiful never wastes anything, but this is hard to comprehend in a land where tilling is difficult and blooming is rare.
And the girl grew scared, for there were none willing to try a different method of gardening, and she knew she couldn’t garden alone.
Still she cried out for rain and spoke to creation and pulled all that she could from the lessons she’d learned – but nothing bloomed. Maybe it was the climate, the dry hard ground, or the hearts of those living in the land – but she cried and she spoke, and nothing bloomed.
How long does it take for a barren land to affect the heart? How much time passes by before a girl so sure of her DNA to cultivate a garden begins doubting all she had discovered?
The girl begged the possessors of the brightest green thumbs to let her return to the garden – to the only location where things made sense – to the only place life seemed as it should be. They lovingly turned her away, but she didn’t see it as love.
And she shouted, “Maker of gardens and all things beautiful, what good is a garden if it cannot be multiplied? I have done all that I’ve been taught to do and still my efforts are in vain and my cries are unheard. Surely I am less! It is your business to choose favorites, but why must I know of your favoritism when you have made me a second class citizen? Why must I watch as blessings are lavished on others and I am left in a barren land where creation is deaf to my cries? Please rescue me from this place.”
Have you ever wanted something so badly, you feared the strength of your desire would overcome the possibility of it happening? This is the fear that filled the girl as she lived in the land.
But the maker of gardens and all things beautiful is not at all concerned with our fears, and he never allows them to void our dreams.
One day when she least expected it, the girl was lead out of the land where tilling was difficult and blooming was rare. It’s a peculiar thing, when your dreams become a reality. They don’t always unfold the way you imagine.
The girl had imagined her heart full of adventure and life, but hope filled with skepticism flooded instead. How long does it take for disappointment to shrink expectations and drain color from desire?
Still with hope left in her heart, the girl believed that maybe she wasn’t a second class citizen in the eyes of the maker of gardens. Maybe there were other gardens.
They arrived there, to the land he had reserved for her.
Weeds everywhere, overgrown bushes, rotten food that had once been good for eating – mud puddles some places, dry, hard rock in others – Sun that sometimes scorched and sometimes hid in the clouds all day long.
The girl couldn’t help but be filled with disappointment. So she cried out,
“Maker of all things beautiful, have you brought be here to be even crueler? Why put gardening in my heart when its desire does nothing but torment? Why display all that life can be before my eyes, only to rip it away? I am angry with you and I’m angry with me. If I was a better gardener, maybe I could have tilled the land, and if you were a better maker, maybe you would have helped.. And if I were more lovable, maybe, just maybe the possessors of the thumbs of the brightest green would have welcomed me back to their garden.. but none of that matters now. Here we are in a land only slightly warmer but just as difficult. Here I am to be reminded again of failure, weakness, and inadequacy.
And the maker responded,
“Oh girl, my girl, I did not break your trust, but I will gladly rebuild it. I did not bring the chill of winter to make your heart cold, but I will gladly bring warmth to thaw out all things effected. I am the maker of all things beautiful, and I love you enough to clean up the messes others have made. Your heart, child, is one of my beautiful things. I have brought you to your very own land, your very own garden. Can’t you imagine it? Foods of the greatest flavor and flowers of the most vibrant beauty as far as your eyes can see. As we work in this garden, child, you will see that the gardener within is so much more talented than you’ve ever hoped. Your heart, child, needs this garden – a place where you choose the location of the flowers and the variety of the fruit. A place where you will show creation how to thrive effortlessly, because it’s inside, child, it’s inside. You are far too creative to till someone else’s garden – full of too many ideas to hide them under the ideas of others.”
And the girl breathed deeper than she had in quite awhile, and as she looked down, she noticed that her thumbs were looking a little green.