the old man in the garden
(I’ve been in the garden this week – thinning, transplanting, planting anew. God met me there, in my garden, letting me take care of things that need planting right now, things that need extra care and attending to – and me, the plantings, we all have needed the refreshing waters, the resting before the growing. I’ve been reviewing my writing and journaling – where it’s been and where it’s pulling me to go. In the review, I found The Old Man in the Garden whose story has vined and tangled into two other stories God’s been planting, nurturing, readying me and the story for the blooming. I used to think when God gave me a story idea, it was an assignment that was due yesterday – as if I should have known before He told me. Now I know to trust that He plants the seed – and in its God-designed time it bursts open – it just takes waiting, trusting – and continual nurturing of the garden He’s given me. I am thank today, remembering the stories He’s given me – and the ones we are readying to write. Right now, though, I’m sitting with The Old Man in the Garden who is the root of something that’s been stirring in my heart.)
It is said, a twisting, terrible serpent and a deadly sea dragon roam the world, devouring the cardinals which bring hope along with the mighty oaks with its limbs raised high in praise, drying up refreshing waters, lying in wait for the hare and deer, destroying good and allowing evil to thrive.
It is also said, there lives an old man, older than any storyteller or history book can remember, who’d carved out a garden with his bare hands and imagination, watered it daily from seed-time to harvest, year after year beyond memory and record.
The old man’s garden, it is a pleasant garden filled with sweet fruits that satisfies the soul and brings wholeness to the heart, the hands and feet, the mind – the inside and outside parts of growing life. The serpent and the dragon dare not go near the old man and his garden, though they blow seeds designed to destroy with every wind, on every dust particle. They plot and connive to destroy it from within and without.
The old man, he attends his garden daily, walking its paths he designed, pulling out weeds with his hands or hoeing, loosening the soil so that the waters go down deep, and, by going down, strengthen the roots – and in the strengthening, loosening weed roots that don’t belong, making them easier to tear out before they grab hold and make greater damage.
Day and night, the old man can be found either kneeling, his hands working through the soil, his hands dark with the healthy, rich soil. He is a hands-on, vigilant guardian over his creation—vigilant of the thorns and battles from without that blow, always seeking to invade, to overtake, to choke out his creation.
Sometimes he stands at the garden’s edge, watching, listening.
“Come, make peace with me,” he calls in a still, soft whisper. “Come, make peace with me.”
Sometimes he crosses the garden’s borders, strides into the dark woods and wild fields, returning home with seedlings and shoots, stems with leaf buds to graft into his vineyard trees, by the arm-fulls or solitary, always worn, struggling to live, but totally given over to his healing power. Somehow, he hears their call.
Sometimes, a seedling finds its way into the garden, weakened, worn by those very thorns and briars in the battle outside the old man’s garden. Maybe a shoot, almost dried out of life, lying limp on the old man’s wall – how it got there, who can tell – but it seeks sanctuary in his garden, tended by the old man’s healing ways – and, in the tending, finds new life.
Sometimes, the living things, they come, peer into the garden, unable to believe it is, indeed, better within than without. They don’t stop and talk with the old man in the garden. Maybe they think he won’t understand, but, he does – he understands everything. Maybe they think they’re too intelligent to ask a simple gardener about big things like serpents and dragons. Maybe they think living within an old man’s garden boundaries are restricting, limiting . . . small-minded. Instead of extending their hands in greeting, to just meet and talk, to try and understand the old man, they shove their hands in their pockets and walk away.
Somehow, though, seedlings, shoots and stems for grafting and all other living things, they keep coming, laying hold of the old man’s protection – and they come to make peace with him because there is not peace to be found outside his garden.
“At that time God will unsheathe his sword,
his merciless, massive, mighty sword.
He’ll punish the serpent Leviathan as it flees,
the serpent Leviathan thrashing in flight.
He’ll kill that old dragon
that lives in the sea.
At that same time, a fine vineyard will appear.
There’s something to sing about!
I, God, tend it.
I keep it well-watered.
I keep careful watch over it
so that no one can damage it.
I’m not angry. I care.
Even if it gives me thistles and thornbushes,
I’ll just pull them out
and burn them up.
Let that vine cling to me for safety,
let it find a good and whole life with me,
let it hold on for a good and whole life” (Isaiah 27:1-5).
Is this the beginning of an allegory tale that you are working on, Maryleigh? It’s beautiful and reminds me to rest in the great Gardener’s care. He alone knows how to care for my fragile roots–coaxing blooms from my life like no one else can. Hugs to you, friend!
I’ve been wandering around in Isaiah, and Isaiah 27: 1-5, especially where God is encouraging people to “Come make peace with me” – there’s a thread that’s been wondering through my mind – and this really spoke to it. There’s more that can be threaded with it, other parts of a message that I’ve been thinking about that seem to have attached themselves to this story – so, yes, I think it is the beginning of an allegory that will weave itself out. I was thinking of those who choose not to believe, choose not to engage – and rummage through all other beliefs rather than turn to Him for just a conversation. Why not just try talking to God – I think that’s where this is going. {HUGS} back at you, Beth!
An enchanting tale, Maryleigth – so thankful to know the Gardner and His loving ways. Would enJOY reading more of your tale . . .
Thank you, June – this started with Isaiah 27: 1-5 – I’m looking forward to exploring where God takes this!
Wow, this is amazing! I would love to read more. Thank you for sharing at Weekend Whispers.
Isaiah’s images of the watered garden speak to my heart every time I read them. His writing is exquisite, and what a great God to communicate to us in such a picturesque way. Thank you for teasing out the truth in story form.
Wow, this was a fabulous read! I love our ability to cling to Him, to be invited
into His garden and to enjoy a close,
intimate and protected relationship with God. It gives me hope beyond measure! Thank you so much for sharing this!
Well done. I like the imagery.
There are so many powerful lessons we can learn from nature. I’m thankful that God used everyday things to teach us. Who can’t relate to weeds and flowers and growing things? Thanks for this beautiful story.
I think every time I come over here I end up using the same words, over and over. It seems to be the only word that truly fits in times like these, with posts like this – POWERFUL and poignant. I love this take on that verse in Isaiah. You have such an amazing way with words and imagery. And those lilies? Those are some of my most favorite and they seem to pop up around every house I’ve lived in!
Powerful and beautiful…makes me want to read Isaiah which is one of my favorite books.
Oh I really love this Maryleigh. 🙂
Lovely. “Come make peace with me.”
beautiful allegorical and poetic prose, dear ML. Each time I come over I have to give time to read your words slowly, no fast reading here, friend. Or else I miss the beauty of what you have written. The passage in Isaiah is beautiful indeed, and thank you for sharing it here. I opened my Bible and read it for myself… truth is I have read Isaiah a few times, but it was good to focus on that passage. Never really saw it in the way you wrote about it, like making peace with Him. Beautiful. I love the photo too! Blessings on your evening, Mary Leigh. It is always good to connect with your heart. Love Lidia
What a sweet picture – of the old gardener. Of a Savior who patiently and lovingly cares for us… Love this!
Found your post today on Faith Filled Friday.
Hope you have a blessed day~
Melanie
Whoa-this some powerful writing. Beautiful. The metaphor of the garden and the garden’s keeper with God and christianity-at least that is what I interpreted it as.
Good to read this again.
I find that my garden is also my pondering place. I began the work of planting yesterday, already tired, but received strength, persevered, and found myself stronger and encouraged!
It is amazing how gardening, pruning, and weeding speak to our hearts every year. Our lives need tending to seasonally, just like our plants! So good to be reminded of this.
A tale to ponder, Maryleigh. You have such a gift of drawing me into your woven words, your word-smithing. Isaiah is maybe my favorite book in the Bible.
Thanks for starting my Monday with your kind and encouraging words over at my place.
You captured my imagination today!
The garden is peaceful even in the storm. There is rest and quiet under His tending.
What a beautiful picture of our loving Lord’s care for us.
All’s I can say is Wow! I’m seriously at a loss of words here. I’m so awestruck by your message today.
What a beautiful analogy, I love it. Little by little, his seeds grow in the mind, and we cling, and he harbors our weakening roots as he strengthens us. Thanks for sharing and also the link up.