Last January, I noticed that there were a couple of rocks missing from my garden. Now, mind you, this is not a rock garden, but a flower garden—but the rocks added their own bit of character. When the rocks began to disappear, I suspected that perhaps my neighbors were stealing the mini-boulders. (I’m fairly certain they murdered my cat and hid her body, so…what’s to stop them from taking a few useless rocks?)
Through the spring and summer months, I watched as more and more rocks disappeared. Soon it seemed as if every rock was gone. I went to my family and told them what was happening in my garden. At first they were as shocked as I, but after a short time, they proclaimed my rock-free garden as the work of God. I was frustrated and bewildered. I couldn’t understand how the loss of so many rocks in my life could be considered the work of God.
I stared at the soil for days—wondering if the barren land was the work of God. I wanted to believe it was His handiwork. I wanted to believe that He had allowed things to happen in a way that was for my protection. But, I struggled and questioned it all daily—was the barren soil the result of sin? Had someone really stolen my rocks?
Then one day, it occurred to me—it didn’t matter. It was irrelevant as to why the rocks had been removed. The barren landscape was necessary for the soil to become fertile. Whether the rocks were stolen or whether they were removed by the hand of God was no longer the point. Nothing new was ever going to grow as long as the garden was full of rocks.
I grabbed my trowel and began to work the soil. Carefully, I opened a packet of seeds and placed them in the rich, dark soil. I prayed for God to fill my garden with trustworthy flowers. The absence of rocks would soon be forgotten, and God would be glorified as He restored my laughter and revived in me a spirit of joy. He alone is the One who redeems all things.