I Come to the Garden Alone

This morning, Sarah Young's writing in Jesus Calling reminded me of  childhood experiences that have done much to make me who I am today.  In today's devotional, she said, "Your deepest, most constant need is for My Peace. I have planted Peace in the garden of your heart, where I live but there are weeds growing there too: pride, worry, selfishness, unbelief. I am the Gardner, and I am working to rid your heart of those weeds.  When you sit quietly with Me, I shine the Light of My Presence directly into your heart. In this heavenly Light, Peace grows abundantly and weeds shrivel up.  When you trust Me in the midst of trouble, Peace flourishes and weeds die away.  Thank Me for troublesome situations; The Peace they can produce far outweighs the trials you endure."

To begin with, I grew up in a small bedroom community of Pittsburgh, PA. If you know anything about the state, you know it's all up hill, down hill or around a corner. The hill I lived on had two nicknames.  It was known as "Big Bug Hill" because the first street had many big, Victorian structures. It was also know as "Boy Scout Cabin Hill."

The Boy Scout Cabin was in a lonely, isolated, and heavily wooded part of the hill at the edge of town.  Above that area is where the majority of the houses were-until the field above where I lived was turned into a housing development while I was in Germany.  More about that later.

At the bottom of the hill was a creek and on one bank of the creek was a path beneath the trees. The other bank was steep and had one house and the far side of the bridge that crossed the creek.  Just beyond the house and the creek was a highway that took you out of our small community.  But, it was along that path that God gave me what I felt was my own special garden. Tall trees made the path and hillside very shady and not much grew under the trees, except in springtime. Then, violets would grow and I would wonder along that path, alone, and listen to the creek bubbling over the rocks and pick those violets.

I've come to understand I wasn't really alone.  The Lord was with me. I learned as a young girl to appreciate the beauty of what God had created. The beauty He's created is so lavish and it's for us!

Another place I used to wander was closer to the top of the hill.  At the very top of the hill was a farm. A little lower was a wide open field.  I spent a lot of time wandering there, too.  The grass would grow about knee high and I don't ever remember it being mowed.  After frosts and winter freezes, that grass would turn the color of wheat and coil into tight little curls.  That made it easier to find the tiny little forget-me-nots, clothed in their pale blue with bright yellow centers.  Joyce Kilmer was right in saying only God could make a tree.  Only He can clothe the lilies of the field, too.  And the forget-me-nots.  Can't remember how many times I tried to transplant them in my yard, but they never made it. Today, that open field is covered with houses.  I'm grateful that didn't happen until after I was grown and gone. Enjoying the peace of God's Presence would never have happened if those houses were built earlier.

I've come to so deeply appreciate those times alone in God's creation.  It's often been said that David spent many lonely days and nights watching the sheep and communicating with the Lord.  I'm not the poet David was and my life has never touched royal palaces, but God touched my heart because of all that time I spent with no human companionship, marveling at the beauty of God's creation.  It humbles me to think He did that for me and I'm grateful. Is it any wonder I marvel at Zephaniah 3:17? It's so humbling to realize that God takes great delight in me, quiets me with His love, and rejoices over me with singing.  He chose those times to be alone with me!

There was other reasons for my lack of human companionship.  Our house was directly across the street from the Boy's Home, where most of the boys were placed there by the state for repeated minor infractions of the law.  Parents didn't trust those boys and the only thing separating those boys and our house

were shrubs surrounding the playground.  Then, too, my mother was what popular 80's pop psychologist, John Bradshaw called "shame-based."  She was ashamed of everything and was never comfortable with company in the house.  I was alone much of my childhood, unless I chose to visit a neighbor.

I learned to make friends through books and wandering the field and by the creek, enjoying God's creation. I would say my childhood made me the richest girl in town.