Finding a large rock in one’s garden is always an experience. You are doing what needs to be done in the garden. You are tilling or in my case you are finding potatoes. You are faithfully turning over the soil when all of a sudden, you hit something hard. I guess I could let my imagination run away with me. For instance what if it was buried treasure left from the Civil War or the Revolutionary War? Wouldn’t that just conjure a myriad of images and sounds! The gun and cannon fire! The marching of the soldiers! The soldiers coming home! What if someone in the past left a time capsule that they were intending on digging up? What information would we find? What would it tell us of those who once lived here. The Native Americans, the pioneers, the robbers, the moonshiners! Oh, the history that would be uncovered!
Back to reality. Stina and I were turning over the dirt to look for potatoes when I hit something hard and it sounded like a rock. We had been finding small ones in the garden and tossing them into the bushes and thought it was just another small rock. I put the shovel in under what I thought would be the whole stone. However, when I went to lift, it did not move.
My mom started collecting rocks for a rock garden when I was younger. I happen to love collecting nice sized rocks for the flower beds I have had. I especially like collecting rocks from river beds. To remind me of the good times our family has had there.
Stina put her hand in the hole and went to lift it out. She couldn’t do it; so I removed some more dirt from the area. It appeared bigger than what even she expected. We worked that rock right out of the ground! I was amazed at the size! It was the size I would normally get from the river and here was one in the garden!
When I was a young girl, we were at my aunt’s house. She wanted to plant a garden in a specific spot. So while we were there, we helped clear the area. There was a stone showing in the ground where she wanted to plant. My father started to remove the dirt around it. The more he removed the more this stone was turning into a rock and not just any rock. Through the use of a series of instruments – shovel, hoe, chain, truck and tractor – we finally removed the boulder that was in her back yard!
I shouted for my husband to come and see this rock we had found in the garden. He came and lifted it up and off he went to dust it off and put it in the flower bed. I believe every one should have a “rock in the garden” story. My rock is a lot like what we experience in life. We keep looking for things that may or may not be there. We found the potatoes. Some were still in great condition, some were small and some were rotten. Some of the potatoes were in areas that we didn’t expect because that is not where they were planted. Our journey has twists and turns in it. We hit those “rocks” in the garden.
The question is what will we do when we find those “rocks”? Some will be ones that we cast aside. Some will be ones that we will want to keep as a remembrance of a memory or some will be so big that we just can’t or shouldn’t do anything with them. Or should we? My aunt made that boulder part of her garden.
Jesus tells a parable about a man who found a treasure in a field and went to purchase that field. In deciding how to tell my story, I thought about this passage. My heart is the field that He purchased on the cross. His love is the shovel that continues to till the soil of my heart. The rocks He finds are the areas of my heart that do not align with His love or character. Yet He continues to work the soil of my heart. He is making something beautiful in me.