Gardening the Soul: The Master Gardener, Part 2

A Transforming Love


Finding grape vines, heavy with clumps of sweet, juicy fruit would be an indescribable joy for a weary desert traveler. This is the way God felt when he reclaimed his people from Egypt: When I found Israel, it was like finding grapes in the desert. But God wasn’t content to leave this vine in the desert:

You brought a vine out of Egypt;
you drove out the nations and planted it.
You cleared the ground for it,
and it took root and filled the land.
The mountains were covered with its shade,
the mighty cedars with its branches.
It sent out its boughs to the sea,
its shoots as far as the River. (Ps.80:8-11)

What a task! God had placed his tender nation in the sheltering soil of Egypt 400 years earlier. But now its roots had been tunneling and intertwining with the economic roots of Egypt for so long, that the Pharaoh thought he owned the vine and clung tenaciously to it. But God was resolved—the grip of Egypt was not strong enough to resist His uprooting power. Eventually the Pharaoh relinquished his slaves.

God then potted this fragile vine in his nurturing arms, bearing it through the desert to its new home. After he cleared the ground by driving out the host nations, he planted his vine in the welcoming soil of Canaan. The transplant was a smashing success: it took root and filled the land, covering the mountains with its shade.

The Great Gardener's goal has always been to transplant his seedlings into the fertile soil of his garden where they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon. (Ps.92:12) These cedars of Lebanon are the sequoias of the Middle East. They tower to a height of over one hundred feet and span forty feet or more. God's persistent desire is to produce lives which mirror the strength, durability, and beauty of those giant evergreens.

Two summers ago I brought home a discarded pack of seedling broccoli plants—as my wife knows, I am a sucker for anything marked "Free"! They were root-bound sticks with only two or three small, dusty-green leaves at the top of each plant. I had a vacant spot in my garden so I tossed them in the ground. I didn't pay much attention to them but did notice that once established, they began to fill out. By October I was stunned by a harvest of ten or twelve very large, dense, blue-green heads of broccoli.

As we enjoyed that astounding harvest, those plants reminded me of Paul's words to the Corinthians: God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. (1:27-29) God delights in selecting nursery rejects—the weak, the lowly, the despised, and transforming them into monuments to his grace—the cedars of Lebanon. You may fear that you are too insignificant or have snubbed God's call for too long or have made too many immoral choices. But God delights in transforming your frail, fruitless life into a fruitful marvel. Give The Master Gardener a chance—He is very experienced!