The Unseen Gardener

Have you heard this story? I remember reading it in a book, many years ago, but I cannot recall the name of the book. It is very short, but powerful. I will call it “The Unseen Gardener.”

---

A certain man set out upon the exploration of a dense jungle somewhere in the heart of the tropics. For many days he trudged through the untamed forests with tangled vines, treacherous swamps, and thick undergrowth. A lesser-determined adventurer would have become discouraged and caused to turn back. But this man had heard rumors of something astounding and magical somewhere in the heart of this wilderness. He was compelled to find out if the rumors were true. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he was seeking, but he had been told that he would know when he came upon it.

As the jungle grew denser, so did the darkness. The daylight penetrated the darkness less and less, only sending down slender beams of sunlight as though coming through holes in an overhead canopy. At long last, reaching a difficult crossing, he jabbed his walking stick ahead in the dim light, pulled his weight across a small bog, and was startled to a stop by his emergence into midday sunlight so brilliant that he could only squint and shade his eyes.

Dumbfounded by what he saw, his jaw dropped in disbelief. He had stepped out of the dark overgrowth into an elegant garden of immense proportions. Out of the chaos, before him he saw
a masterpiece of design, order and beauty. Bordered by manicured hedges, were individual groupings of lilacs, roses, hawthorn and camellias. Clematis gracefully arched over trellises, with cleanly swept pathways beneath. In the distance, at the center of the garden, fruit trees ready for harvest presented offerings of all manner of fruit, some of which looked unfamiliar to him. And in the very center of this magnificent landscape, encircling palms stretched their fronds over a bubbling fountain to form a setting of grace and peace.

Where was the caretaker…the gardener who had created this masterpiece?

“Hello!” he called.

“Anyone here? Hello!”

Silence…a silence that was strangely full, instead of empty. But a silence.

After a thorough exploration of the garden, the explorer made a decision to stay until he discovered the identity of the gardener. He decided that the caretaker must come and go, …so he would just wait.

And wait, he did. For several days. And the strangest thing was that each day when he awoke, the garden looked as freshly groomed as it had on the first day.

But he saw no one. He decided to stake the entire perimeter of the garden and string heavy twine at such a level that could not be circumvented, but when moved or tripped in any way would signal that someone was present.

The signal never came. And the garden remained lovely and perfectly cared for.

The explorer decided that the gardener must come at night to do his work. So instead of retiring for the night, he remained awake and alert, watching for the caretaker and his meticulous gardening. Night after night, no one came.

At last, the explorer knew the answer. He captured many excellent photographs of the garden with his camera, and then started out on his journey back to his home.

He was welcomed with great joy by the residents of the village, who had begun to have grave concern as to his whereabouts. He joyously told them that he had found the secret of the jungle. He shared the photographs of his discovery with them, and they were all amazed at the beautiful garden, which was carefully cultivated and groomed in the depths of the jungle.

Then they asked, “Is there someone who does this magnificent work?”

“Yes, there is.” he replied.

“Did you meet him?”

“No.”

“Did you even see him?”

“No.”

“Well, what proof do you have that a gardener exists?”

The explorer smiled knowingly and once again spread out the photographs before them. “It is in the photographs” he replied.

They gathered around and bent over the glossy prints, shaking their heads.

“My dear friends”, the explorer explained. “There is indisputable proof that a gardener exists.”

“The garden itself, is the proof.”

---

“For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made…” Romans 1:20 NIV

---

The Journey: Day 1

This Story is True. Only the Name has been Changed.



Forward:

I am passionate about the Word of God. I have been for many years.

I am compassionate toward the people of God. And over them, I have shed many tears.

I have all too often seen the Word of God used to place heavy burdens on the people of God. I think one quest of my life, is to speak freedom into those lives.

---

The first thing I noticed about her was that she was a tiny little thing. The next thing I noticed was that she was very young. Perhaps in her late twenties, but with a look of youthful innocence.

She came into the counseling office of the church where I was a staff counselor. I didn’t recognize her as a member of the church, but we often had counselees referred to our office. She quickly found her chair opposite mine, sat down, and…was she trembling slightly? I wasn’t sure.

I leaned toward her a little and introduced myself. She responded with: “My name is Lupe.”

She was trembling. It was more noticeable now.

I led the conversation toward things I hoped would relax her somewhat, and then invited her to just share with me why she was there, whenever she was ready.

She was silent for a moment. Looking down at an invisible object somewhere on the floor, she tightly gripped her small clutch purse with both hands on its corners, centered it smoothly on her lap, and in a soft, almost breathless voice, exhaled, “I killed my husband.”

The impact of those words caused me to sit up a little straighter, but I was trained not to outwardly react. No matter what. I maintained my eye to eye contact with her…well, somewhat…because she was still looking at that spot on the floor.

Then, she abruptly raised her head and in a voice growing stronger with every advancing word, “I am a believer. I know this was wrong. I came here to find out if God can forgive me”…and the dam broke which was holding back her flood of tears.

It was not uncommon for me to kneel down beside a person in distress, wrap my arms around them and hold them until their emotions subsided. I immediately did this, and I just held her for a long time. When I sat back down, I asked gently, “Tell me about it. What happened?”

She slowly began to unravel her story of abuse. It was a common story...all too common. She had married very young. (Of course. She was STILL very young.) She had two children, a son and a little daughter. Not long into her marriage she began to realize that her husband in every area of her life was bringing her under rigid control. And then it began. The abuse.

She related horror story after horror story of battering and psychological abuse that had left her not only scarred and demoralized personally, but it had spilled over on her son. The husband had begun to vent his rage on the child.

It was a long, grueling story. A story that has become all too familiar today, as these scenarios are more and more being brought out into public awareness.

So how did she murder her husband? What took place?

After one night of violence, battering, and drunkenness, they went to bed. Her husband fell into a deep sleep. He had a habit of keeping a loaded gun beside him as he slept. She had been broken and battered that night beyond endurance…and he had also attacked the son. You can guess the rest of the story.

And here is the part that grieved and angered me the most. I asked, “Can you tell me why you never were able to leave him before this happened?” I expected her to tell me how she was afraid, or she just couldn’t because…etc.

That is not what she told me.

She said…that well-meaning (my words) mentors…thinking they were giving her wise counsel had advised her that she must stay, and pray and believe for the situation to change. She didn’t think that God would approve of her leaving the marriage.

Then the unimaginable had happened. Of course, she was immediately arrested, admitted her guilt, and due to the circumstances, was waiting for the penalty phase of her sentencing. Now she sat in my office with this look of fear, anguish, and spiritual desperation on her face. “Can God…will God…forgive me?”

Tears welling up in my eyes, I once again held her in my arms, and with a sob in my own throat, I said, “Oh Lupe! This is what the Gospel is all about!” And we wept together.

I knew that God was weeping with us.

How do I know? Well, lots of reasons, but this is enough. Jesus said He came to show us what God was like. And when His close friends wept, He wept with them. And I knew that He would have been angry at the same things that angered me. How do I know this? Because He warned His followers over and over, “Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees.” What was that?…the “leaven”. It was the spiritual legalism of the day that they used, to place burdens on people that were so heavy they couldn’t bear them. (His words, not mine.) I know, because He said, “The Sabbath was made for man; not man for the Sabbath.” He got His priorities straight.

And that’s one of the reasons they hated Him. They said He (the One who wrote it to begin with) didn’t keep the law. And this was one of the reasons they had the Romans crucify Him.

Lupe went away that day knowing she was forgiven.

I never heard from her after that. I did hear that she was given a light sentence. I sometimes pray that she has a new, good life…and that her story will be used to help a lot of other people.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Gal.
5:1 (NIV)

---

To My beloved Jewish Friends: Have a Blessed Passover! Your Passover was the beginning of mine.

And to my Christian Brothers and Sisters: Have a Joyous Celebration of Easter!

Finally, to both of you, this is a week to celebrate your freedom from bondage!

---