I can’t stop looking at them. Big ones, tiny ones, beautiful ones, ordinary ones. Some are smooth, flat and round with a monotone color; others are craggy, irregular shaped with bands of multi colors.
Rocks have always fascinated me. Even as a kid I had a rock collection. I remember one in particular, a crystally white stone the size of a brownie bite with a perfectly preserved animal claw print in the middle. I was drawn to rocks long before I embraced their Creator as my Rock.
For a long time I’ve also wanted a flower garden in the sunny front corner of our yard. We have so much shade that blooms can’t grow anywhere else. I had a vague vision of flowers in that spot but our son Craig made it happen. He did the tilling, weeding and hole-digging; he knew what weed barrier and compost to buy. He captured my vision, artfully placing flowers and plants, giving the garden its contours and character. He provided information, inspiration and sweat in the July sun; I got the fun part.
It wasn’t until I was scouting our back yard for rocks (abundant in the Hill Country) to make a border that I realized this could also be a rock garden. I kept busy for days digging up rocks, loading them onto the Gorilla cart and relocating them from back to front, each one hand picked and placed according to its beauty, size, shape, or function. Large ones to prevent erosion and lend their beauty; medium sized stones arranged around each plant to direct the flow of water; small river rocks in between plants to complete the look and cover the weed barrier.
Building the garden has been hard work. [Note: credit where it’s due – 5 yr. old grandson Alex filled two boxes with small rocks; grands Molly and Liam placed selected front edge border rocks.] It took time and patience, water and shade breaks, back and other aches. But this little corner of loveliness was worth it. I believe the love of gardens is hard wired into the human heart. After all, God created the first man and woman in a garden. Every beautiful garden is a glimpse into paradise, so the spiritual significance of my carefully chosen rocks is not lost on me.
The large rocks stand like spiritual borders – belief in God and the Bible with its truths which shield me from false teaching and acceptance of evil. Smaller ones remind me of the many kindnesses, loves, and prayers that fill my life. The cover rocks are like faith, the barrier that keeps out weeds of doubt, fear, anxiety, discouragement, and hopelessness. The varied blooms in all my grands’ favorite colors keep the memories we have made and hope for their future front and center in my heart.
God has greatly improved me since the night I answered Jesus’ knock on my heart. But He is still growing me, pulling out weeds, and rearranging my rocky parts to turn unlovely edges to the back and move parts that show love, encouragement and kindness to the front. My little garden is pretty enough to please me and gives pleasure to neighborhood walkers but it’s still a work in progress.