This small space was meticulously cared for and all with one purpose.
To give the soul a chance to rest, pray, refresh.
The plants were well trimmed.
The green grass cut short.
The air seemed fresher.
Wooden benches tucked snuggling against the wall among the flowers. Placed for those who might want to linger.
In the center of it all lay a pond, picturesque with water lilies.
Windows, stain glass windows, covered the walls.
Each one held the name and face of a person. Most were men and women from the Bible and some were the people who are the ones who came before us, pioneers who walked the path of faith before us.
I took a few pictures, embarrassed myself by nearly stepping on the gardener and walked back through the door to rejoin the group.
But later, realized I failed to do what the purpose of the garden was for.
At no time did I simply stop and rest.
I didn’t bow my head in prayer.
I didn’t thank God for the time and effort that so many for so long had cared for this plot of earth.
Care because this was a refuge for the weary and a testament to God.
Encouraging those who come through the door to stop, look, pray.
Spend time with the One who made them.
But their effort was not in vain even if I did not take the time then
I took the lesson away with me.
“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:” Ecclesiastes 3:1
To think about the One who made me and that I am His.
Might I encourage you to do the same.