The adventure of getting to and away from Venezuela was fast-paced and exciting; to such an extent that after our whirlwind stop in Trinidad and Tobago we sat on the plane and thought... oh yeah, we're going to Guyana. Having a sneaky suspicion that we might end up doing a Luke 10, while flying into the airport and seeing the expanse of the jungle around it, I had visions of trying to find a man of peace in a local village with the sloths as bystanders...
At the airport the travel team was charged with the task of finding accomodation for the night; and the options looked dire. When the custom official doesn't even know the concept "backpackers" you realise that this is not your run-of-the-mill tourist destination. We spoke to one of the official airport taxi drivers but even pitching our tents somewhere seemed unlikely.
So imagine the magnitude of finding myself in the kitchen of a wonderful Guyanan lady, joking in English, witnessing the art of preparing roti a mere three hours later; with the smell of delicious Indian Curry driving any memory of running for the bus in Caracas the morning. The magnitude of that very same airport taxi driver guiding us to a Pastor (so rich in Godly wisdom) that opens his church and ministry for us.
The next morning Denise took us on a discovery adventure to the "farm" a few minutes walk from the church and here the magnitude of the situation literally overwhelmed me. We met Mr. Norton, tall and grey, taming the forest and cultivating various fruit and herbs. I felt like a little girl in a wonderland of discovery. Wherever we turned our eyes we saw a different kind of fruit, peppers, papaya, pineapple, banana, squash, platannos, passion fruit, bread fruit, sour sops etc. As if that was not enough he showed us his herb garden, ginger, thyme and citroenella to name a few. Under the wooden house a line of seedlings was being prepared to be planted. And a creek provided the soundtrack to the unfolding pictures.
"Do you live alone?", Luiza asked. Mr. Norton chuckled, "How can I be alone when God is here with me," came the reply in a thick Caribbean accent. "God is the true gardener" I said without really thinking. The next day I was reminded of my comment and the truth of the metaphor.
Reminded of a Father that farms in my heart. That takes the same pride and interest in every single process. That prepares the ground. That is sanctifying and removing weeds. That prepares seedlings for a season to come. A diverse Spirit, that produces fruit that take me by surprise. Fruit that glorifies and edifies, fruit that points to the Son. A life-giving creek that never runs dry.
The rest of our time in Guyana was very blessed, I wish we could spend more time in the country with it's lovely people. Spending time at the girls home in Hauraruni was at times overwhelming, wanting to help and speak healing but also feeling so unequipped. My heart was breaking as we drove away but at the same time I am grateful for being able to entrust those hurt and broken gardens to my Gardener, trusting and resting in His way of restoring and doing it!
Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, let its spices flow. Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits. (The Song of Solomon 4:16 ESV)
Live a lover's life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus will be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:9-11 MSG)
Comments
God - the first Gardener - He planted Eden and ever since has been gardening the hearts of people. With such vast experience He knows how to remove the weeds and pests, and how to tend our hearts to grow and be fruitful. Such a wonderful analogy, Charlotte! Good piece of writing! Blessings on your journey!