Went out to the garden today to check on things. I began to pull away some mulch around the seeds I had planted there. As I did this God spoke.
Funny how this God speaks in the garden. It seems to be a holy place. All life giving and miraculous. Where hope abounds and new life is visible. Yet so simple, really.
Quiet.
And my heart listens. He reminds of the seeds I planted. That really they are just a promise given when I place them in the ground. The rest I surrender to God. Much like the promises he has spoken to me.
And then the waiting. So difficult. I stumble over the waiting.
Because I can not see with my eyes all that is happening beneath the soil. I can not see the miracle that is happening.
In life, beneath the soil all covered with my tears and prayers is a promise. A promise that God in all his knowing and bigness is cultivating. Just the right temperature, just the right amount of rain. Just the right amount of waiting.
Its happening. My work with seed is done but His work is just beginning.
Has He forgotten about my seed, my promise. I pull back the mulch. And then some soil.
And then joy.
Right beneath the soil. I can see it. It has been there all along. There is much happening that my eyes have not seen. I see that my seed, my promise has been born.
Faithful.
He is always faithful. I am amazed again and I fall deeper in love with this God who answers prayer. This God who speaks to me in the garden.
