I never thought of it until today. Our story of redemption, the perfect begining, the hard fall, the surrender unto death and sweating of blood, the raising and the telling of the good news to Mary…
All of it was unearthed in the garden.
Our life, our story is clothed in dirt. Our very creation was from the dust of this life giving soil. I wonder if His hands were black with muddied dirt as he formed Adam? Did it smell of peat and loam and clay as he breathed life into the masterpeice of man? What was it about the GARDEN that He chose to make it the stage onto which humanity would unfold?
Is it the cycle: seed, to root, to life, to death, and then to life again? Does it’s deep earthen soil have the room to possibly hold the weight of the fall and surrender of the God Man? Or is it in the beauty that He reveals that death has lost and LOVE has won, and we are finally free because HE IS RISEN?
Whatever the reason, God chose the garden for His story to be written in.
And so, as Good Friday approaches and we we wait for what they couldn’t see until the third day, we get our hands working, planting, growing life in the garden. Reminding ourseelves how small and of the earth we really are- just dirt. And we create and plant as He once did. We remember His quiet retreat to Gesemeny and the painful burden he willingly bore for us. We remember Mary only able to see a gardener instead of the Christ until He had mercy and opened her eyes to the risen truth. We remember Him in the begining. Walking with the two he loved in the cool of the day in the Garden. And we long for the day that we will walk with Him with dirt stained feet, a perfect new earth squeezing up between our toes. For He Has Risen and so one day, will we.