I never knew gardens could heal, until I remarried and moved to the United Kingdom. Gardens are very small in England, but with some imagination you can see these grassy or rocky areas, as a room or even another world.
My new garden was a typical garden space created, by an Englishman, with pea gravel, no grass, and statues in the wrong place. A tremendous amount of effort had been made, but it needed a woman's touch, and some perspective, to become that healing place we both needed.
The first order, of business, was to move the two statues to a more personal place of their own. The male statue was Kenneth the keeper of the scroll, and the second statue was a female Greek water carrier.
Placing the larger male statue in the back of the garden, created an individual space for him, and gave the garden depth. The female was dressed a bit more seductively, so I placed chimes and a bird bath at her feet, to give another attitude in the garden.
I didn't realize how important that garden would become until I spent time there, day after day. My husband would go to work in the mornings, and I would busy myself in the garden. Staying busy was important, for I had started a new life, in a new country. I had moved far away from my two daughters, and family members, and I desperately needed this time to heal, from past hurts.
Gardening became a time for kneeling, planting, and spending time with God, which encouraged me to think, and reflect about many things. The garden was also the place to hang out the laundry, even on cloudy days. It didn't rain as much as folks think, it just looked liked it was going to rain.
My husband and I were never alone in the garden, our neighbors were always just a window away, and the fences were short. One neighbor raised guinea pigs, and she used them to mow her garden. She was a nurse and didn't spend much time, in her garden.
Strange now, but I guess her little pig-mowers were a help, in my healing also. They were oblivious to others watching them, even Charlie the white cat, who thought no one could see her, didn't disturb the wee lawn mowers.
When the garden became a friendlier place to visit we put up bird feeders, and invited new friends to the garden, and they came. The tiny sparrows were excited as they lined up on the fence, waiting their turn on the feeder. The starling gang fought and wrestled with the fat snacks we rolled to them, always acting like bullies, but they were really sissies.
The wood pigeons were polite when they came to the garden, waiting patiently for the sparrows to drop seed, on the ground. The small, round robins came, during Christmas time, and peeked in our windows. Wagtails bobbed their tails up and down, while searching for anything edible, and last but not least the Magpies.
These black and white crows always came in couples and enjoyed the water part, of the garden. We had one maggie who had one leg, and we thought she or he must be loved very much, encouraging my husband and I, as we continued on our way of healing.
The birds without speaking to us directly, always spoke to our hearts, for they came and ate our food, and entertained us without trying. I thought it must be a good way to live without the worry of where to live, or what to eat. Each day they reminded us of these basic principles, of life.
One October day, I was planting English bulbs for spring when God spoke to my heart, about returning to America. I didn't realize it was the Lord at first, but after a few moments it was clear, it was Him. We walked and talked, in that small garden, and after some time I knew what I must do.
I shared with my husband all the Lord and I had talked about, and we agreed it was time to go back to America. We were sad about leaving, but we made plans and began the process of leaving our home, and our small garden. One important thing we had learned in our garden, was life wasn't always about us, so going back to America was about others.
We decided to sell and give the gardens items to friends, hoping they would remember our friendship. It was difficult to say good-bye, to our home in England, particularly the garden, but we knew that God would somehow replace it, with a better one.
We stepped out in faith and sent money ahead to my family and they bought a new place for us. When we arrived to our new home, we were shocked, for the garden was enormous and very overgrown. No longer did we have a small, safe, and friendly garden, but three acres of palmettos, pine trees, and weeds! No friendly guinea pigs to mow the yard, but only thorns and barking dogs, telling us we were not welcome.
We quickly settled in and began working diligently, with some used lawn tools. Slowly and steadily we mowed, raked, and pruned away the weeds and thorns, and a wonderful thing happened. Our new garden became open and welcoming to the birds, squirrels and even the neighbor's barking dogs. We now had a new garden that was one hundred times larger than our small garden in England, which would provide more time and space for deeper healing.
We no longer had the black and white magpies to remind us of their faithfulness, to each other. Now we have eastern bluebirds nesting in our oak trees. The quiet wood pigeons were replaced by cooing doves, who are always looking for seed, in the garden.
Charlie cardinal lights up the day, with his bright red suit. Willemina woodpecker patrols the yard, keeping the peace between Bobby blue jay, and the fussy mocking birds.
Yes, we left behind a garden of peace and comfort that began healing, in our lives, but as we cleared the new garden more healing came. My husband and I are sensing a new level of living, as we had another surprise this spring.
Daffodil bulbs I brought with me from England, sprouted up to remind me of my English garden. Giving, us yet, another intimate way of living, in a garden, as God intended.