Every Garden is Good
Back when I tussled with the need to know why, I wondered why God’s injunction had been ignored, how the story would have been different if Adam and Eve had listened.
Now I see that every garden is good, every act of creation meaningful and significant, and if you poke around in the need to understand evil, you’ll wish you’d left that rock alone.
Once, when I thought I was unworthy, I couldn’t accept loveliness. Sad wasted days, believing in that lie. I thought I was cursed, but I didn’t know why. These days, I would never exchange feeling for knowledge. Appreciating beauty for accumulating information. Believing in enough for insatiable wanting. I have no need to be greater than God, to have more light, to be more special than my neighbor, to be admired or revered.
My garden and its treasures delights me, and should an angel come to me and say, “All this beauty is for you to enjoy, but stay away from the Asparagus,” I’m pretty sure I would listen.
If God is Love, and Love surrounds and protects, why would I mistrust that? If I stubbornly cling to my own omnipotence, how will I learn to be wise? Whatever power knowledge confers, whatever brilliant masterpieces conjured, I would never trade my mind’s theoretical achievements for the dazzling intelligence of my heart. The garden’s success depends on both, working happily and humbly, side by side, as friends and allies.