Never realized until later in life that the hymn, “In The Garden”, sounded much like a old bar tune.  It was one of those days when my sisters and I were makin fun of how some people sang at our church…like Mrs. Starbuck who liked to sing alto as loud as she could just so people would know that she could harmonize.  But I digress…  That’s not what this blog is about.  It’s actually about the song…”In The Garden”. 

I never understood why so many old folks liked that song…not until I had a garden of my own.  It has taken nearly two years to get our garden where it is today.  Lots of haulin dirt and compost…lots of rearranging rain barrels, beds and plants…  It’s beautiful. 

With the first leaf pushing through the dirt starts the days of watering, doctoring and caring for your plants…days filled with quiet moments with only the sounds of birds singing and goats bleating across the fence.  At times you can hear yourself breathing and the sound of your clothes bending and moving with you as you dig in the dirt.

“He speaks and the sound of His voice…is so sweet the birds hush their singing…”

It’s those times you are finally quiet enough to hear God Himself…  You start to hear His voice as He reminds you how much He cares for you…

“And…He walks with me and He talks with me…  And He tells me I am His own…  And the joy we share as we tarry there…none other has ever known.”

The old people in our church knew what they were singing about.  They knew that in the stillness of their gardens they could enjoy the communion with their Savior.  They also knew that their garden was a refuge…a place they could run to and know that they would find their Savior there.

Not all of us have gardens…but we can all find a place to get away from the noise and worries of the day to hear God’s voice.  The problem is…we don’t go there very often.  Okay…I don’t go there often enough.