The Master Gardener

     This is my park bench.  It is purposely positioned under two large maple trees and surrounded by an assortment of hedges and bushes.  It is a place of reflection, contentment, peace and my prayer bench.
     I love spending time here with my Father.  It is shady on a hot day, peaceful when the world is a mess and has a spectacular view of the splendor created by my Father.
     I thrill in reading scripture aloud and listening to it come back to me off the canyon wall.
     I am fascinated by the canopy of leaves overhead that were spoken into existence, the number of shades of green and the variety of shapes.
   

      The view of my yard includes all the flowers, bushes, trees and hedges that we have planted since moving here.  All of it is beautiful.  Caring for it is rewarding.
     But none of it compares to the work of the Master Gardener Who laid all things before the beginning of time.  The Master Gardener Who put the mountains in place and ordered the creek to flow between.  The Master Gardener Who imagined the trees and said, "Let them be," and planned to bring us here at this point in time and gifted us with such beauty just because He wanted.
     The Master Gardener Who shed His blood so we wouldn't have to.  I want no other garden except what is planted by Him.