
I took up gardening a few years ago. (Well, actually gardening seemed to take me up.) It all started very innocently when a friend gave me a cutting from her jade plant. I knew nothing about plants. I had watched for years as my mother worked in her garden and I appreciated the interplay of color and texture created by the various flowers, trees, and shrubs. But I didn’t know the first thing about the process of cultivating or caring for a garden, and as far as I was concerned, the details involved in that process were best left up to my mother.
But all of that changed when I received my Jade cutting from my friend. She knew just how to initiate me into the wonders of gardening, without overwhelming me with the details. Jade plants are succulents; for those of you who do not know what a succulent plant is, it’s simply a plant that doesn’t need a great deal of water or attention. In other words, it’s the perfect kind of plant for a novice gardener! I was amazed by how quickly this one plant put down roots in my heart. Watching this little cutting grow tiny, threadlike roots, planting it in a pot filled with simulated desert soil, and experiencing the wonder as it grew into the small Jade tree that it is today—over 15 years later—amazed me at how something so small, so ordinary could become extraordinary.
I can tell you that it didn’t take long before I began to try my hand at plants that required more attention and care: african violets, cyclamen, gerbera daisies, iris, lilies, tulips, and a whole assortment of garden flora and fauna. I grew enchanted by the variety of color, texture, and arrangement each new species added to my garden. I learned about specific care regimens, their particular pests, the difference between a partial-sun and partial-shade plant, and how soil acidity impacts the color of certain types of plants.
More than all of this, gardening took me up because gardening quickly grew in me a sense of wonder. I suspect my friend knew this when she introduced me to my first, little jade plant. She knew that gardening would introduce me to the extraordinary in the ordinary. You cannot help but begin to pay attention to the tiniest details as you garden, and in turn, begin to notice all kinds of other awe-producing details all around you. The varieties of the color green in the trees, grasses, plants and shrubs, the nuances of blue and aqua hues that shimmer on lakes and oceans, and the little creatures that share the world with us—birds, rabbits, coyotes, skunk, deer, dogs, and cats. Living now in the Pacific Northwest of the United States, where gardening is beloved and beauty envelopes us, this is all the more true for me.
The Christian Scriptures indicate that the natural response to wonder is worship. Indeed, the psalmist suggests that the very detailed elements of creation proclaim the glory and worship of God: The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of his hands! Whether we realize it or not, we are drawn into the very presence of God when we wonder in God’s creation. We affirm the beauty and the goodness of God as we wonder at and with and for creation. And as we wonder, we agree with God that all God made “was very good” (Genesis 1:31).
Have you lost your sense of wonder? Has your life gotten too busy, too laden with care or comfort or grief that you cannot see God’s extraordinary presence in the ordinary details of life? Or maybe God seems far off and unreachable, and you long for the tending and nurturing of a gardener yourself. I cannot explain away that longing any more than the psalmist, who expressed a similar lament when God felt far off to him. But I do know that nurturing my own garden and wondering aloud at the beauty of color and intricacy, I am comforted by the declarations of creation—of gardens and waters and heavens who seem confident, not only that there is a gardener, but one who is very good.
Margaret Manning Shull is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Bellingham, Washington.