Heart as a Garden

 

One of the greatest analogies for life, I learned drawing with my counselor. I came into a session, depleted, trying to be all things to all people and falling short once again. I was exhausted, discouraged, and left questioning what to do now. 

I told her my life feels like a garden. I till the soil, plant the seeds, water, fertilize, and watch, as beautiful flowers and hearty produce grow before my eyes. I nurture my garden and try my best to care for it with consistency and compassion. I pull weeds as necessary, because they seem to come up no matter how hard I try (any gardeners out there can testify to that!) 

But in that moment, as I explained this to my counselor, I began to mention people who were coming into my garden, telling me what I should and shouldn't plant, how I should be taking care of my plants, and some even coming and planting whatever they deemed fit. They were leaving things uprooted, dirt heaped on the little stone walkways I had placed beside my garden. 

"Oh here, Nicole, your life would be so much better with these onions."

"Oh Nicole, these wildflowers would look so good next to your petunias." 

"Nicole, you should be tending the plants this way. Give them this fertilizer, it's what I've always used"

"Nicole, why don't we pull these flowers out to make room for mine."

I think you get the picture. Everyone in your life has an opinion that they want to plant in the soil of your heart. It could be given with the best intentions, it could be given in ignorance, it could even be given out of malice or jealousy. But the reality is, everyone has something that they want to plant in your life. Some good, some bad.

They may plant affirmations, they may plant insecurities. 

They may plant wisdom and truth, they may plant lies and deceit. 

They may plant goodness and grace, they may plant disunity and strife. 

Everyone has something that they have to plant, and want to plant, in your soil. 

And at the time, I thought I had to plant everything that everyone was giving. I took the onions, I took the marigolds, I took the mums and hydrangeas. I took the weeds with good intentions and watched as they suffocated the beautiful plants I had worked so hard to grow and maintain. I was heartbroken, weary, discouraged. I had put in all that work and now had nothing much to show for it, except quite frankly, a mess. I let the weeds overtake me, because I didn't have the strength to pull them at the time. I felt like it was selfish to uproot what others had planted. "For surely they had done it with my best intentions at heart" I thought to myself. 

As I sat with my counselor, head in my hands, she said, "Nicole, it sounds like you need a fence." 

I thought, "No, no, that would make me mean. A fence would be uninviting, hurtful to others."

But what if a fence is actually the most compassionate thing that I can do for myself and others? What if boundaries are a healthy example of what should and should not be allowed into the garden of my heart? What if boundaries are a means of grace, for others to see the implications of what they do when left to do as they please? 

Look to the first garden, the Garden of Eden. God established the bounds of the garden, but also set a boundary when it came to what Adam and Eve were able to eat. God gave them the command to be stewards of the land and creation. Simply put, to be the gardener, the caretaker of all that God had made. In a garden of great beauty and bounty, there was only one tree that God asked them not to eat from. God set the boundary for their own safety. God knew the repercussions of what would happen if Adam and Eve were to eat from that tree, and knew that it was not for their benefit. 

It was when Adam and Eve began to believe that boundaries were constricting and given out of God withholding something from them that things began to take a nasty turn. No longer did they see the bounds as loving and safe. Which left the gate of their hearts open for the enemy to plant new seeds. 

The serpent sneaks in. Sounds like the well-intentioned, uninvited people in my garden. 

The serpent twists the words of God, just enough to plant seeds of doubt in the soil of Adam and Eve's heart. He plants seeds of deception, that the consequences of breaking this boundary and eating from the tree couldn't possibly be that bad, but would actually enhance their experience. He plants seeds of division between humanity and God. And when Adam and Eve choose to listen to the serpent, and their eyes are opened, seeds of shame take root in their hearts. Cracks in the soil begin to take shape in the couple's relationships with each other, with God, and with creation as a whole. 

Boundaries are a means of grace and protection. Boundaries help us to respect the sacred image of God that is found in each and every individual, including ourselves. 

You can choose who enters your garden. You can choose to invite them in and still not plant what they offer. You do not have to let someone walk all through your garden, pulling up plants and planting seeds of their own. Because we are created in the image of God, we are stewards of our gardens. We are called to love everyone, and sometimes the most loving thing you can say to a person is simply, no. 

The Holy Spirit gives many gifts to those in the faith, one being discernment. We have the ability to discern what should and should not be planted in the soil of our hearts. The Bible reveals to us the seeds that should be sown and the weeds that should be pulled. We have been equipped with the proper tools. We have all that we need to be good stewards of our hearts and the hearts of others, because in Christ, we have all that we need. 

Photo from: https://www.backyardboss.net/backyard-vegetable-garden-ideas-for-beginners/