When we sing the hymn, “I come to the garden alone – while the dew is still on the roses,” it conjures up images in our imaginations a leisurely walk down a pathway in the early hours. But for those of us who get a little dirt under our fingernails in the garden, we know that the early hours are a great time to water and pull weeds, before the heat of the sun begins to beat down on us.
In the midst of our deliciously mundane upkeep in our tiny gardens we are reflecting the image of the great creator and gardener of our souls. He often chooses our quiet resting times, to come to work in us. He comes prepared with the watering can of His word to pour over our dry hearts and then in soil softened by that moisture he reaches down to pull out weeds. He delights in what is flowering then takes out His heavenly snips to clip away at the dead places of our lives. All of this He will come to do if we will leave the garden gate open and wait expectantly for His footsteps!
I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. John 15:1-2