Book Review: The God of the Garden - Highly Recommend

It was Sunday. None of my books from the library seemed like good choices for my Sabbath time. Instead, I pulled down a book Bryce gave me for Christmas. Andrew Peterson's The God of the Garden has a similar feel to my other favorite by him, Adorning the Dark. I lost myself in this book, devouring it in one day. After reading a secular book focused on trees and how they stand watch and mark time for us, this was more in line with my worldview. 

I will admit, I'm not big on trees. My mother-in-law would come and ask how the such-and-such tree was faring (this being family property and thus hers, too). I would cringe because I cannot identify the trees we have. I know that we have an oak orchard and a black walnut orchard. But ask me how the Arborvitae is doing and I'm paralyzed in my ignorance. Which one is that?

Moreover, I keep as far from the garden as I can (much to my husband's dismay and my late mother-in-law's critical opinion). Plants do not thrive in my care. I have told the story before about receiving my first gifted plant. When honored with the General's Guard award, the leader gave me an African violet. She waxed eloquent. "As this plant grows, so will your spiritual life flourish." Yikes! I'm doomed. I killed that plant in just a few days.

Given this book's focus on trees and gardens, you would think I'd be disinterested. But you'd be wrong. I was fixated. Peterson weaves personal stories that ground the trees and gardens into the book, and those stories flourished like spiritual plants. He is not only a gifted storyteller but also a humble and honest pilgrim. The book considers ideas of innocence lost, God's silence, responsibility for the land we live on, and the ever-important communities we establish.

Toward the end, I hung on every word, since we are in the process of the very struggle he outlines. The developments outside our front door alter our land and sentimental affection. It is hard not to view these houses and neighbors as interlopers, threatening our peace and solitude. I could relate to Peterson's question concerning his parents' little piece of property. In fifty years, the new owners will not value the vision his parents had. They will tear it down to build a modern house with up-to-date amenities. May even sell it to developers who will multiply those modern houses on the land.

Yet, we are also on the other side of the equation. Necessity calls for us to carve up this legacy and put it into the hands of similar developers. It is breaking our hearts. Will they be kind? Many in the community expressed a desire to keep our old white barn. 

There was talk of moving it closer to the proposed community park. Alas, it is in such a state that the cost is prohibitive. Thankfully, they will not molest the beautiful tree (I can only call it beautiful - I do not know its name). 

Just as Andrew Peterson emphasized, this tree has been here for years. It will hopefully remain for many more generations. Think of all the life that has transpired around this tree. It bears witness.

I may never grow passionate about trees, yet I took great comfort in reading Andrew Peterson's love of them. Perhaps he is right, and a little time in the garden alongside my husband might banish internal despair. This book filled me with the desire to cultivate the garden of my life, to till its soil with purpose, and to bear fruit for the Lord who loves me every bit as much as his planted creations. Though he may not feel it, Peterson is blessed in his ability to perceive his capacity for sin and waywardness. Too many falsely believe they deserve God's salvation. They do not rely upon His mercies because they maintain their walk with Him. I want to see my own sinful state clearly and fall on His infinite mercy and love. To hold His hand as I walk through this garden.