Betty and I worked all day yesterday making a trail up our mountain. We’ve been working on it for a while and have a couple hundred feet complete but it’s just a start; haven’t even begun to go up, still meandering around the shoreline. I love working on it. It is hopeful labor, hard work that makes it all the more hope-filled. As we quietly work in the woods I often stop and sit on a log or a hump on the shore and look out on the earth. God must take great pleasure in his creation, earth, but I am certain there is a certain amount of nostalgia, His longing for the re-creation, the new earth. I know the trail we are making is for us and after us may return to the wild, the briars and thorns evilly at work again entangling earth into their dying desires. But not for now. Betty and I are sons and daughters of King Gardner and as he will make all things new one day, we are laboring at subduing today. We are deeply drawn to remake the garden, it’s been in us since we were banished from it, the labor, the sweat to regain that which we lost. It is God’s gift to us, the nostalgia for a true Fair Haven or Eden as it were; a longing to make a trail to the East Gate where the flaming sword will be no more, and finally, ever finally we are welcomed Home.
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| Resting on a hump of the shore. |
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