SHELTER
"Snapshots from My Garden"
by Debbonaire Kovacs
This is the fourth excerpt from "Gardens of the
Soul: Cultivating a Devotional Life with God" by Debbonnaire
Kovacs, published by Pacific Press, Nampa, ID, copyright 2002.
Books are available from Debbonnaire at
debbonnaire at debbonnaire.com.
Between the pieces of this ongoing parable are the chapters
the book is really about: in-depth Bible studies on how to
cultivate your own soul's garden, in companionship with God.
This snapshot introduces a chapter called "The Sun of
Righteousness," about spending daily time basking in
God's love for you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Life with the Master Gardener is turning out to be exciting,
not to mention giving a person plenty to do. Our character
might just be getting too busy". . .
Her life was far different than it had ever been before.
She had always valued her privacy, and she was still
uncomfortable with the people who came to look over her
walls, ask questions, and give advice. But she could sometimes
talk to them now. Some of their advice was good, and once or
twice she even answered a question herself.
She was always busy. She had planted her few plants, still rather
spindly,
in a bit of ground near the corner of a wall, and she had to carry water to
them, dust their leaves, and watch for bugs. More important, she helped with
the cleanup and wall-building when she could. And, of course, there was
always the Tree to tend. The grim darkness in which she had existed
before was receding into the dimness of memory, but her most valued
possession from those days -- self-sufficiency -- was still with her. She
had been a whole world to herself then. She had prided herself on the f
act that no matter how bad it got, she had never begged for help.
She had kept busy then, too. There had been spiders to chase,
holes to patch, and always the two overriding passions -- care of
the Tree and the ongoing construction of her fortress. Safety had
been her primary goal in those days -- safety, secrecy, and privacy.
Now the Gardener had shown her that she could be safe if He was
around, even if the wall was only a low one. It was a little unnerving, but
on the whole, nice. The sunshine was warm, and the fresh air made her
feel stronger than she had felt in years. She had learned to love the
water.
Yet, in some ways, things were not all that different. The main goals of
life hadn't changed. The Tree was still all, and the construction of the
wall still ongoing. Her garden was still hers to care for. Well, with the
Gardener's help, of course. She could never be grateful enough for all
He had done. Still, she didn't need to bother Him for every little thing.
So the days passed, and though the Gardener ws always around
somewhere, she didn't often see much of Him. She heard Him -- busy
with some facet of construction or murmuring over His endless plans --
and knew He was there. That was enough. Once she thought she heard Him call her name,
but she was busy. And when she looked around a minute later, He wasn't there.
It must have been her imagination.
Then, early one morning, when the shadow of the growing watchtower
lay long across the garden, she came around the Tree and was
surprised to see the Gardener sitting alone in the swing, looking --
well, looking almost sad! She was so surprised she stopped and stared.
She had never seen Him sad before.
Then He looked up and saw her, and His whole face lit up.
"You came!" He said.
"I. . . I. . . What are You doing?"
"Waiting for you," said the Gardener.
"But. . . did we have an appointment?"
"I've been calling you every morning, but you didn't seem to hear."
"Oh! I'm sorry, but I've been busy, You know. . . Did
You want something?"
"Just to sit with you. I've been missing you."
"Missing me? But I've been here all along!"
"So have I," said the Gardener quietly. "Will you sit with me?"
"Well, I do have a lot to do right now. I know! Why don't
You come and work with me, and we can talk at the same time?"
"No," said the Gardener. "I want you to sit here with Me."
He was beginning to look sad again, so she said, "All right, if it's
so important to You, but only for a few minutes." She perched
beside Him in the swing, feeling a little anxious to be about her
business, and even, just slightly, irritated. The she felt guilty. What
right did she have to be irritated with Him of all people -- the One
who had saved her life and was building her a whole new garden?
"I can never be grateful enough to You, " she said awkwardly,
"For all You've done and everything. I wish there were some way I
could pay You back." It was a useless statement, and she knew it. How
could she ever begin to pay Him back?
The Gardener looked at her. "Thank you," He said gravely. "There
is something I want from you."
She swallowed. Here it came. She had known all along it was too
good to be true.
"What's that?"
"I want you to sit here with Me in the sun."
She looked at Him. "And?"
"Just sit here with Me. We can talk or plan or sometimes just sit in the sun. You need more sun."
She started to protest and then realized she had, in fact, been
keeping to the shadows much of the time, even in her work. Old
habits died hard. Well, she could sit in the sun. But she was still
confused. "That's all You want?"
"Every day," He said.
"Every day! But I -- we-- have so much to. . ."
"Every day," he repeated. His gaze held hers for a minute --
or longer. His eyes always made her want to do anything He asked.
"All right. Every day."
He touched her face and smiled. The sun seemed suddenly
brighter.
(c) Debbonnaire Kovacs 2002-2008
##########
Debbonnaire Kovacs has been writing since she was a small child,
and sold her first story at the age of eleven. Today she is a full-time author
and speaker. Debbonnaire has published 3 devotionals/bible study books, educational textbooks, and
various articles and stories, both for adults and children. She has two romances
and a series of children's bible study lessons in progress.
Check out her castle at www.debbonnaire.com and her blog at www.debbonnaire.blogspot.com
Mail - debbonnaire at debbonnaire.com
