Close to God in a garden

The garden centres have reopened. I know for many folks this news will have been greeted with a great sigh of relief. I went along to my local garden centre and noticed people happily browsing along the rows of bedding plants, perennials, and annuals. 

Others were examining the fruit trees, ferns and shrubs. A number were piling their trolleys with large bags of compost and tomato plants. All were following the one-way system in our new mode of shopping.

The delight was palpable on their faces as they chose the items that were to be taken home to enhance their gardens. I modestly purchased a new fork, trowel and gloves with the aim to take up gardening as a new hobby. I do have a lone Hosta waiting to be planted but the ground will need some severe weeding first!

Of course, in among the plants were pots, water features, gnomes, and the like, I spotted a sign that you could purchase for your garden. It read:-

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,–
One is nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

When I got home I looked it up and found it was part of a poem by poet and hymn-writer Dorothy Frances Gurney.

The Lord God planted a garden
In the first white days of the world,
And He set there an angel warden
In a garment of light enfurled.

So near to the peace of Heaven,
That the hawk might nest with the wren,
For there in the cool of the even
God walked with the first of men.

And I dream that these garden-closes

With their shade and their sun-flecked sod
And their lilies and bowers of roses,
Were laid by the hand of God.

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,–
One is nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

For He broke it for us in a garden
Under the olive-trees
Where the angel of strength was the warden
And the soul of the world found ease.

During the lockdown people’s gardens have literally been a Godsend to them. A place to spend time, to create and to be close to God. Amen

  

A time to wait

Gordon and I have been going out for a walk every couple of days. We are fortunate to live in Angus as you are never too far from countryside or seaside. We have enjoyed exploring local nature walks and looking at the trees coming into bud and the wildflowers. In particular, the bright yellow of the gorse and broom bushes are quite spectacular.

Seeing them always remind me of Betsy Whyte’s book, ‘Yellow on the Broom’. Betsy was born into a traveller family in 1919 and brought up in the age-old tradition of the ‘mist people’–constantly moving around the country and settling down in one place only during the winter. As a sign that it was time to start traveling again they would wait for the yellow to appear on the broom.

Adam MacNaughtan, the Glasgow songwriter, read the book and then composed a song about it.

I'm weary for the springtime when we tak the road aince mair Tae the plantin and the pearlin and the berry fields o Blair We'll meet up wi oor kin folk frae a' the country roond 

When the gang-aboot folk tak the road and yellow's on the broom.

Betsy and her folk lived their lives appreciating that there was a right time, for them, to do things. A time to stay in one place and a time to move on.

Those words echo the ones found in Ecclesiastes – ‘To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.’

It is our time just now, during the pandemic, to wait. To wait in our homes. To wait on the pavement and shop to let people walk past us at a safe distance. To wait for the news of when things will be changing.

We know that we do not wait alone. God waits with us. This is a time for waiting. And one day, there will be a time for us to move on. 

I see the moon

One of the advantages of becoming a grandmother is that you get to revisit seeing the world through a small person's eyes. I was driving along one afternoon with my 3 year old grandson, Seb, in the car. He was very excited about something he had seen. I asked him what it was but he didn't know the word for it. 

He then said 'like a diamond'. I worked out that he was referring to the nursery rhyme, 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star ... like a diamond in the sky'.  So, I stopped the car and looked to the sky. There I saw the moon in the sky in the middle of the afternoon and I marveled at it. 

Clearly though, Seb was puzzled. He queried, ‘it’s like a banana?’ I realised that he had probably only seen pictures of a round moon. So I said, “Well, sometimes the moon is like a banana and sometimes it is like an orange.” He seemed satisfied with my answer. 

It was a lovely moment of connection and wonder and learning. May you too have time to stop and look at the moon – whether it is a banana or an orange or something in-between!  

Sands of time

As the sands of life
ripple around our being,
may we be blessed
by the treasures that are revealed
when we push beyond the familiar
to the depths of Your presence.
Amen