Contemplation: Finding the place in you where you are here and now being created by God. Thomas Merton.
This weeks contemplation: Marriage
The first vision, July 2020.
The grass is soft yet cool beneath my feet, welcoming me further into the heart of the garden. The sun’s rays filtering between the leaves of guardian trees kiss my skin, and the hand that holds mine is warm.
The oasis is surrounded by mountains — a walled garden.
The One holding my hand speaks sweet words to me as we walk. He points out features I would otherwise have missed and I am struck by how thoughtfully the garden has been cultivated — with a tenderness and attention to beauty that is divine. A waterfall flows in the distance and its streams run organically through the land, like wine overflowing and spilling out of its vessel. Its waters are sweet to the taste.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
"To the Veggie Patch,” He replies, and I can feel the excitement in His voice. Excitement is growing within me too, and it builds with each step.
We round a corner of trees and are birthed into an open field. The ground here, I notice, is hard and the grass is struggling to grow.
“Why is the ground here so hard, the grass not growing as well?” I question. “There is still work to be done, dear one. There will always be places in your heart that need tending to.”
On the other side of the field is a high brick wall, so high I can barely see over its top. From a distance it looks just like any other wall sectioning off a part of the garden, but as we get closer, I see that even this wall is built with just as much care and beauty as the rest of this flourishing grove.
The door before me is thick oak, weathered yet stunningly carved, with vines, flowers and pomegranates decorating its surface. Garden beds are built right up to the wall as though a promise of the life within. There is a lock on the door, and just above the lock is a sign that reads, “The Veggie Patch.”
The One who leads me unlocks the door and we step inside.
Before me is a perfect circle.
Garden beds, empty and waiting for seed, wrap around the inside of the wall, flanking the path on either side. Arched trellis’ stretch out like arms connecting each bed around the wall. Four gates break the wall into quarters, each with its own sign and purpose. At the centre of the garden is a table with a circular pavilion offering its shade and cover, while garden beds surround the structure, a pattern of circles and wedge shapes making welcoming paths from wherever you entered the garden.
I saw workers in the garden too, tending to the earth, for although there were rows and rows of garden beds, they too were empty of seed. As I walked along the paths, my Guide spoke to me of its purpose.
“This is the Veggie Patch — the part of your heart reserved for marriage. While all your heart is a garden (and you must tend to and cultivate every part), a section of it is reserved for the work, love and enjoyment of marriage.”
As I walked the perimeter, I read the names of each gate. The northern gate read, “To The Throne”, the southern, “To The Heart.” The western gate which I’d just entered through read, “To The Wilderness,” while the eastern one simply read, “Exports.”
I was amazed that so much work had already been done to prepare my heart for marriage, and that work was still being done. Even though nothing was yet growing, the Veggie Patch was beautiful. It felt like home.
I walked to the table at the centre of the garden. It was so beautifully laid, I felt as though it were calling to me. When I first came upon it there were three chairs at the table, yet when I looked again there were six, and then there was eight! I trusted my Guide to tell me what this meant. “There is a place of communion with Me at the heart of your marriage. When you spend time with Me, I will teach you both how to grow and cultivate it.”
I asked Him about the change in the number of chairs, yet even as I asked, I felt I already knew the answer. Before He even spoke a word my heart swelled, and I saw in my minds eye my children sitting around the table and neighbors either side, with a place at the table set for our Guide.
“Your table will be a meeting place between heaven and earth.” He said to me, and I cried. “Not only will your children sit at your table, but many others will as well. I will bring them in and you are to feed them.” The smell of freshly baked bread lingered in the air as He spoke, and I knew He spoke of the Bread of Life.
The second vision, February 2023.
I sat on my bed in my little apartment in Auckland, New Zealand, praying. It was a week before I moved back to Sydney, and I was praying for the year of unknowns ahead. As I prayed, in my minds eye, I was taken back to the garden.
I stood at that familiar oak door, all covered with flowers and vines. The lock was gone, and I freely pushed open the door and crossed its threshold. What I saw took my breath away.
The Veggie Patch was filled with life.
The garden beds around the perimeter of the wall were bursting with flowers. Colours of every kind were on display and they shone in the light of the sun. Birds were singing and dancing with the breeze as butterflies and bees made friends with the posey’s. While the main garden beds around the pavilion were still bare, the earth was rich and freshly turned, soft and warm underneath my hands. Upon the pavilion trailed climbing roses, wisteria and jasmine. The table was set for three.
I knew that the last three years of growth and healing had prepared, not only the soil of my heart, but had planted the necessary ecosystem for love and service to grow.
There was a cart, now, at the gate called “Exports”, with baskets ready and waiting to be filled. “The fruit of your marriage grown in the Veggie Patch is not only for you, but to share with others. When you plant your marriage in Me, no one goes hungry.”
There were twelve sections of garden beds surrounding the table in the middle of the walled garden. As I walked around them, my Guide spoke. “As in the natural, what you grow in your marriage is seasonal. The right seed planted at the wrong time will not bear fruit, neither do you want to plant a bad seed or allow these beds to overgrow with weeds. Learn from Me for I am the Great Gardener (John 15:1); ask Me for wisdom and you will learn when to plant, when to water, when to wait, and when to harvest.”
Spring was here, and hope was on the breeze.
The third vision, July 2024
I stand at the base of the garden bed, its soil turned and warmed by the sun. The smell of jasmine is woven with the breeze, and the birds’ song reminds me of the peace gifted after a storm.
An envelope is placed in my hand — an invitation. It has my name on it. The seal on the back is gold and impressed with the image of a dove.
I open the seal and into my hand falls a small measure of seed.
My Guide speaks; His words sober me, but they sound to my soul like honey tastes to the mouth.
“Are you ready to plant the seed? Now is the time to sow.”
My beloved speaks and says to me:
“Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away,
for behold, the winter is past;
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
is heard in our land.
The fig tree ripens its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away.
Song of Songs 2:10-13
Other than a series of unsuccessful dates and a couple of one month relationships, I have been single most of my life. But ever since I was a child, I dreamed of being a wife and a mother.
I prayed for it, cried for it, longed for it. I’ve prepared for it too — read books, listened to podcasts, and prayed the scriptures. I watched most of my friends get married and have children and I celebrated with each one. I grew content in my singleness and pursued the Lord with all my heart. I lived overseas, wrote and published a book, served at my church, became friends with the locals, and went back to bible college to study theology and ancient Hebrew. I loved my life, I made the most of each moment and gave it all the to Lord, but my heart continued to long for marriage and motherhood.
So you can only imagine how comforting these sweet visions were to me.
I didn’t even ask for them! I wasn’t praying for marriage in these moments, and yet the Lord met me here in a beautiful way. In a romantic way.
I met my boyfriend in August of 2023, almost one year ago now. He is a strong, confident, faithful man and I praise God for him everyday. We talk about marriage and kids often, and, God willing, it will happen.
I am really thankful for this metaphor Jesus has given me for marriage. From my perspective at least, it shows me that marriage is a partnership, it takes hard and constant work to flourish, but is also made to be enjoyed and shared. There will be seasons of summer and also winter, but that fruit comes in every season. If I’m honest, the reality of being married scares me, two sinful people who were once strangers living the rest of their lives together! - WOAH! But the thing that gives me so much hope is the invitation from Jesus to meet with Him in the middle of it. There is always a place for communion with Him, not matter how overgrown the weeds or how hard the ground.
May your marriage and mine glorify the Lord and be a bright and shining light in this ever darkening world.
With so much love,
x Zara
This is such a beautiful contemplation, Zara. Thank you for sharing such gems. They are real treasures, these visions.
This journey through the garden is incredibly moving. It’s amazing to see the parallels between the garden and the heart. Truly inspiring!