It goes without saying that I need to water my flower garden on a regular basis. Even as a fledgling gardener, I am aware of this. I try to water in the evenings, sometimes with Miracle Gro, sometimes without – but, regularly they get a long slow drink of water.

Often my dahlias look droopy and dehydrated in the mid afternoon June heat. The heat weighs them down and I worry that they won’t make it. In a strange way, these flowers have become my companions, my friends. I know their leaves, I’ve watched how some perk up “just so” when they are watered. I know where their buds are and where I’ve cut their first blooms. When I see them looking so forlorn, its almost heartbreaking.

Would you believe me if I told you I have a lot in common with these flowers? At times my heart is parched, even scorched in the heat. I’m dehydrated, so much that my heart feels blistered and cracked. Life has a way of delivering complications that hang me out to dry while all moisture evaporates from my very insides.

But its at times like this when there is only one solution. Showers from heaven – a rain that can come only from the Holy Spirit. This is the way to survive the heat. His water brings rejuvenation and new life. It seems He watches, as my heart’s gardener. He comes with a deep drink of water for my heart at just the right time. He knows the places in my heart where fruit is blossoming, how my soul is revived by his love and affection. I am cared for by this Master gardener, drenched in His life giving flow.

When I think of it like this, it binds my heart to His in a whole new way. He is not just a Majestic, omniscient, omnipresent God – He cares for me, just as I gently care for my flowers. Although, he does a much better job than I do. I can confidently say, He is my friend. And He promises a drink when I need it!

There’s an old hymn that reminds me of His promise for refreshment!

Showers of Blessing

There shall be showers of blessing:

This is the promise of love;

There shall be seasons refreshing,

Sent from the Savior above.

Showers of blessing,

Showers of blessing we need:

Mercy-drops round us are falling,

But for the showers we plead.

There shall be showers of blessing,

Precious reviving again;

Over the hills and the valleys,

Sound of abundance of rain.

There shall be showers of blessing;

Send them upon us, O Lord;

Grant to us now a refreshing,

Come, and now honor Thy Word.

A watched pot never boils. That’s a familiar truth I know from first-hand experience. As a child I was never good at patience. If we were expecting company, I was at the window, watching. Waiting always seemed to take forever.

I’m relearning the lesson. Recently we made a new flower bed and planted dahlia tubers, in hopes of having some beautiful flowers in a while. Now, I know that flowers aren’t going to sprout up over night. It takes sunshine and water, in general, good care to see them come up out of the soil. No matter what I know in my head, every time that I leave my house, I double check for any sign of life – just the tiniest of sprouts – that’s all I’m hoping for. But, to no avail.

These dahlias are on their own schedule and I suppose I should stop watching.

A few weeks ago I experienced this from a different perspective. It was the week before Easter. I love the Easter holiday and everything that is celebrates and embodies: Joy, Resurrection and everlasting Life. Even though I tried, it seemed like my heart could not engage. I thought I had cared for my heart’s garden – it seemed like it was ready for a robust joy to spring up. But, it didn’t, at least not in the way I expected. Where was my child-like enthusiasm? Where was the party?

Sometimes when I watch, I’m looking for the wrong thing.

Over the weeks since Easter, I’ve wondered, I’ve prayed and I’ve kept looking. And, I found the answer in my car. Well, it came to me while I was in the car. I was listening to some music and the words began to move me. As I continued to take it in, my heart began to swell, so full that I thought it was going to explode. It was as though the song began to paint my heart’s garden with bright, bold colors, hues of the rainbow. It was beautiful. It was surreal. It was heavenly. And I realized – this was the Easter celebration I had been waiting for.

The song was “The Good Confession” from Andrew Peterson’s “Resurrection Letters” – it reminded me of my own life, my own heart, my own choice to Believe in Jesus Christ.

Its amazing how God can use whatever he choses to bring me to a new place, a new posture. And He does it in His own timing – He is not bound by my calendar, by holidays or my expectations. I am so thankful that He has planted and is growing the most beautiful garden in my own heart.

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The Good Confession:

“When I was a boy just nine years old I heard the call and came.

They buried me beneath the water then I rose again.

Well you know my dad was a preacher man.

I walked the aisle and I took his hand.

He said “Son just do the best you can and say the words :

‘I believe he is the Christ the Son of the living God.”

Through the years I barely fell; I mostly dove right in.

I drank so deep from the shallow well only to thirst again.

Well I sang the hymns at the summer camp then I rocked and rolled with a lousy band

till I heard a song that took my hand and led me home.

And I believe he is the Christ Son of the living God.

All I know is that I was blind but now I see that though I kick and scream

Love is leading me.

And every step of the way his grace is making me; with every breath I breathe

he is saving me. And I believe.

So when my body’s weak and the day is long, when I feel my faith is all but gone

I’ll remember when I sing this song that I believe. I believe he is the Christ

Son of the living God my Lord my Savior. Oh hosanna I believe. ”

********

And yes, I do believe! What other response can there be to a risen Savior, in the midst of my long awaited celebration?

Hallelujah and Amen!