We were made to be in the garden.

Hear me out.

There’s a beautiful picture painted in Genesis for us. The story of humanity begins in the Garden of Eden. It’s where we see what we were intended for; to walk and talk with God. It wasn’t just a place of physical life, but a place of relational closeness with The Creator. A place of harmony between God and mankind. It was fruitful, peaceful, and whole. It was a place of communion. The Garden of Eden was the place where Heaven and Earth first met.

Of course, Adam and Eve fell to sin and we see that the fall of humanity didn’t happen in deprivation and chaos, but in the midst of abundance. In the garden, was the beginning of the fall of man… But it was also the beginning of our restoration.

Many, many years later, another garden becomes the setting for one of the most significant moments in history. Jesus goes to the garden of Gethsemane the night before the crucifixion to spend time with His Father. Under the weight of what’s to come, He prays in anguish. Cries out to God. To spend time with Him. Ultimately He comes to surrender acknowledging “Not my will, but Yours be done”.

That’s not echoing at all to the fact that Jesus is a perfect man who does not crumble to the weight of sin like man did… nope… not at all… (please catch the sarcastic tone I am emphasizing in my head). In the garden, was the start or redemption.

Even the resurrection, we see that the gospel of John says that Jesus’ tomb was in a garden. Where sorrow once stood, hope begins to rise.

The Garden is a place of return and redemption.

It’s where life grows… slowly… quietly… intentionally. It’s where we quiet the world and spend time with our Maker. Seeds are buried before they bloom. Roots grow before fruit ever appears. Returning to God looks similarly. More often, we hear Him in the quiet moments; a prayer whispered, repentance for the places we find broken, in the sunrise with our scripture and a coffee in hand. Maybe it’s the long nights rocking a baby. Maybe it’s in the car on your way home. In the tears. In the laughter. In the bedroom floor. Like tending a garden, returning to God requires patience and intentionality.

The garden reminds us that we can always come home, no matter how far we find ourselves.

I’m not saying go out and find a garden to sit in so you can be with God because that’s the only place you can find Him. I’m saying, find yourself in that posture. In moments of stillness. In intentional moments with heart posture that seek Him.

I am a firm believer that we make time for the things that are important to us. What we spend our time doing reveals what we find important. And in the stresses of the world and in the noises and opinions and wickedness around us, it’s hard to hear the voice of God if we never find time to return to the garden. It’s a posture. It should be important.

The garden was never about the place (but also, nothing is accidental). It was about meeting God. The small, quiet, slow moments become our modern gardens – spaces where our hearts return to the One who made us.

And we are invited to come and spend time with our King and He promises to meet us there. He is inviting us back.

Back to stillness.

Back to peace.

Back to surrender.

Back to the garden.

Even in the ordinary or chaotic days…

Under The Sun.