The Garden of Our Life

The Garden of Our Life by Tiffany Ward

My husband of almost fifteen years and I met when we were children. Being so very young there was a sweet curiosity and friendship formed from our youth. As we grew older we spent hours riding horses together, talking about life, and navigating all of its complexities. He is a bit more quiet so let’s face it, I did a lot of the talking. He was ever so sweet to listen and respond to many of my wondering thoughts and impulsive ideas. I remember the first time an invader of sorts was on the path of one of our favorite places. We were both astride powerfully strong and attentive horses. As we walked the trail with an energetic jaunt, both of our horses came to a momentary halt as they noticed a snake wrapped in a tree above the pathway we would normally walk. Thank goodness between the horses and Phillip, we were able to avoid its potential danger to us. I still don’t know what type of snake it was, or if it was poisonous. We didn’t have Google back then to snap a photo in real time and access instant information at our fingertips. So, I think of it as a tree snake. We found another path forward on our trail ride and avoided the path under the tree altogether. We rode that trail many times after and never did see a tree snake there again, just the one time. What’s interesting as I recall this memory is it was a foreshadow of an even darker force we would one day encounter—one that would affect the purity and sanctity of our marriage, and help us more clearly define what motivates us as we move through our life together.

As we grew up, we connected so deeply emotionally and spiritually that Phillip pursued me with the intent of marriage. This is significant for me because as we grew together he became the standard I would measure other boys—and eventually men— by. I knew from the age of seven, we were meant to spend our time on earth together. When he professed his ‘like’ for me I was sixteen, he was so relieved that I returned his affection. We married ever so young. He being four years older than me, and I was only eighteen when we married. My goodness, what you think you know about the world around you at eighteen and twenty-two is only a fraction of what the larger picture is. God was ever so kind to give us to one another, to grow up together.

In my early twenties we felt sure we were meant to grow our family. We had our son when I was twenty-two. We learned so much about God’s immeasurable love for us as we began parenting our little boy. Our son was a sweet figurative plant to nurture and love, that God— The Master Gardener—had planted and popped up in the garden of our life. Not quite a year later, I found I was expecting again! This excited us greatly! We wanted to have two kiddos close together and maybe a few more later as the first two got bigger. Another snake in our path came that we could not avoid, and the bite was painful. I lost our precious baby about eight weeks into the pregnancy. It was painful and messy for me personally, and especially for our marriage.

In this same season I had stepped into a new world of entrepreneurial goals and dreams. I had launched my own small spa with a focus on skin and body through the practice of esthetics and massage therapy. This was always meant to be a stepping stone in our life so I could pursue a larger calling in the life I lived. Sadly, feeling the poisonous pain of loss and not enduring the suffering well, I encountered another snake. Deception and false comfort. I stepped out on my marriage emotionally because I could not process my pain with God or my husband well. I have a deep sense of sadness when I reflect on this time in my life because in my own selfishness and desire to be comforted, I hurt other people along my path in my effort to feel better inside myself. I allowed myself to fall prey to the lies of the snake in the garden of my own life. My marriage, my Eden became broken. God is so faithful to give us His love and kindness and bring healing to our hurts. He thankfully allowed Phillip to stay tender to me despite my emotional unfaithfulness to him. It was not effortless on his part, he was intentional and committed even when I had not been. I know now that this is how God is with each of us. Referencing the story of Genesis and the fall of man, see chapter three for the full context. When sin entered the world. Something beautiful God had made was marred by brokenness and darkness. Thankfully, that darkness didn’t get the final say. God was not through growing his garden despite the tempter’s lies and misbehaviors in the shape of his serpent body. There was another stronger force that hung on a tree, and his name was Jesus. He made all things new with his sacrifice. He hung there on the cross, God as man, and he took our shame, took our pain, and he said, “forgive them, they know not what they do.” I’m thankful he didn’t stop there but showed his power and might by overcoming darkness and the decay of sinfulness and our brokenness in our humanity. He came back to life. The light must have been so bright to behold.

Thank goodness that healing comes through God’s love for us. I myself, could not disconnect from my pain of loss on my own. Yet, he used the pain of wrong things in my life to shape me for something greater than myself. My husband and I began to heal our hurts and step into the spiritual calling of healing  marriages and helping them grow in God’s way. It has not been easy but it has been so, so good. We had another bloom in the garden of our life, our precious daughter. She is such a joy to know, easy to love, and effortlessly beautiful.

One day this past fall before the cold of winter set in, my girl and I traipsed down the hill to care for our chickens with some scraps of fruit and vegetables from our refrigerator. When we were near the plateau she ran ahead in her sparkly purple crocs. Unbeknownst to us, she ran right past a snake in the grass. It whipped around so fast with tension and alarm. As it coiled back, it popped up it’s tail full of rattles and gave them a wiggle. The snake began tracking my precious daughter with such intensity. It was frightening. When my daughter turned around she faltered and was stricken with fear. I very calmly and firmly told her to stop her feet and to back away slowly. I told her not to come to me, since the path was blocked with the snake between her and me. It was not safe for her to come back to me. I told her to crawl up onto the nearby white horse panel fencing we had for our horses. She thankfully, suppressed every urge to come running back to me and climbed the fence. I had no weapon, and no way to contact my husband or my son who were both home. I did something a mother could never fathom, I left my daughter on the fence with a poisonous snake tracking her with his eyes and his body like it was his only mission in life. He was not moving toward her but rather very aware of her, assessing her as a potential threat to him. It was eerie and unnerving. I assured my daughter I was going to go get a weapon to get rid of the snake, and find her daddy and come back for her. I knew she was temporarily safe, and I would not leave her on the fence for long. Even though she was filled with fear, she responded tearfully. I reminded her of a scripture we had been reading only the night before as she faced her bedtime fears of the darkness. She began praying out loud the verse in the Bible from the book of Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” She was ever so brave. I returned with help, the serpent was put to death, and my daughter was restored to the comfort and safety of our home.

This was not our last encounter with a real serpent on our land to be sure. We have had to work with our girl to help her overcome her fear of potentially encountering another snake on our path outside. I know this lesson is good for her to learn as a child even if it felt scary to her. The lesson taking root inside of her will be necessary as she encounters other allegorical snakes in her life.

Recently, with spring in full bloom, my son and I decided to sit outside by our fire pit. It wasn’t really cool enough to start the fire but we have such a joy around the flicker of a flame and the conversations we have there. My son was reaching down to open the hinged grate and a green head with a very small mouth popped out. His eyes glistened and his head bobbed as he looked at my son. The green head retreated back inside of his hiding place, and my son looked very surprised at me. He excitedly asked me to investigate more closely, and we found that a small very green garden snake had coiled itself around the propane tank connection and igniting switch of the fire pit. The idea of kicking back and relaxing with a harmless nonvenomous snake was not part of either of our plans. He needed relocation. I have grown out of some of my childhood tom-boy tendencies and could not bring myself to grab the snakehead and uncoil him from the connection point myself. So, instead, I got a pair of kitchen tongs to do the job. We showed the snake to my husband, who confirmed his harmlessness, and told us to release the snake into the grass further out. When we did the green snake effortlessly blended into the green growing grass along the hillside and slithered away about his day.

These encounters cause me to pause. I question how many times in our own life will we encounter these snakes in the grass, in the trees, or along our path? The snakes that slither through in the shape of suffering and pain. Or the ones that invite our human curiosity and tempt us to do things that would not bring life to our flesh and bones. Snakes can be harmless but oftentimes they are quick and ready to strike, or perhaps assessing you with their eerily intense eyes. One thing I have come to conclude, there will be unwanted forces of pain and darkness in your own garden of life. There will be enticing and desirable opportunities on our path that if we follow will bite us and lead us to our own destruction. One thing I have learned fully from The Master Gardener in my own life, we won’t be able to prevent the encounters. We can however, choose how we respond to them. We can let fear drive our response. Or we can let love drive our response and be the primary motivation for all the hope we have as we traverse through our very big garden of life.

— Be Treasured