Garden

This isn’t a garden.

Gardens are gorgeous green playpens for nature to blossom.

Living bouquets of sweet daises and soft roses.

But this isn’t a garden.

Gardens are where pearls of dew slide off ripe tomatoes and grapevines.

Where flower scents sweeter than vanilla and thicker than caramel rise into the air.

But this isn’t a garden.

Gardens are vibrant and viewed, clipped and cared for.

Exquisite displays of maintained earth.

But this isn’t a garden.

This is brush.

Tall thick straw that barely sways when the wind blows.

Bushes of branches with shredded leaves.

Trees of varying sizes in every direction.

Hard black soil that’s pockmarked with pebbles, stones, and rocks.

Fog as far as the eye can see.

And I’m in the center.

This is not a garden.

It is a wilderness.

Loneliness can feel a lot like this.

A place that is untouched by human elements.

Possibly unknown to anyone else.

Unattended.

Unapproached.

Undisturbed.

Neglected.

Forgotten.

We wander this wilderness, leaving footprints that we think no one can see.

Tracks that no one will notice.

Traces that no one will follow.

But Someone is following.

Jesus is incapable of leaving or forgetting His children.

He says,

“See, I have written your name on the palms of My hands.”

And He has.

The nail scars in His hands form names, mine and yours.

An incredible testament of how enduring His care is.

An indestructible reminder of how permanent His love is.

Loneliness can feel like a dead empty space.

We wonder,

How’d I end up here?

How did the path from the pretty garden lead into such an ugly wilderness?

How could someone in such a deserted place be on anyone’s mind?

But the God who seessees you.

And you, me, we, are never forgotten.

_______________________________________________

“Yet Jerusalem says, “The Lord has deserted us; the Lord has forgotten us.”

“Never! Can a mother forget her nursing child?

 Can she feel no love for the child she has borne?

But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!

See, I have written your name on the palms of My hands.”

-Isaiah 49:14-16

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1 Comment

  1. Pingback: In Remembrance | the beautiful project

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