Month: June 2025

Eleven Years

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.
Colossians 3:23-24

Dear Readers,

July 1 marks the eleventh anniversary of my start in the blogging world. Buoyed by a lifelong love of writing, years of journaling, and a desire to tell others about God’s faithfulness, I began Back 2 the Garden. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in reading what I wrote or how long I would continue. All I knew was that God had given me a lifetime of examples of His goodness and an ability to craft stories, an ability I longed to use for His glory.

Writing can be a lonely endeavor. There have been many times when my words were met with silence, and I wondered if they mattered or if I should even keep writing. Inevitably, during those times, the Lord would nudge someone to comment on how one of my posts had helped them, and I would keep writing, reminding myself that I’m responsible for using the gift God has given me, trusting Him for the outcome.

So, here I am, eleven years and nearly 300 posts later, still plugging along. I like to think that my writing has improved over the years, as I’ve taken classes, practiced my craft, and labored over finding just the right words to convey the message behind each post. Still, the goal of glorifying God and encouraging others remains the same.

Some of you have been reading my posts from the beginning, while others of you are more recent visitors. Regardless of your tenure, thank you! I pray you’ll always leave feeling happy you stopped by, having found at least one seed of hope-filled truth to plant in your spiritual garden.  

And here, with a few edits, is the post that started it all on July 1, 2014:

Consider it pure joy

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
James 1:2-3

It was February 1998, and I was feeling anything but joyful. Ten months before, my beloved husband, Ray, had died of a massive heart attack a few weeks after his 39th birthday. Even though I was a rational person and knew all too well the details of what had happened, on some level, I maintained a protective mantle of denial. I couldn’t accept or fathom how he could go to work one sunny spring Saturday and never return home to me and our two young daughters. But bit by bit, the reality dripped into my soul, creating an underlying sadness that colored many of my days.

In preparing for Ray’s funeral, I wrote a letter to him, which one of our pastors read during the service. Among other comments, I stated that he’d not only left a lasting legacy in the lives of our daughters, but also in the beauty of our garden. You see, Ray had a horticulture degree, and he planted many interesting things in our yard. He would tell me about the special plants he selected and teach me their names. Although he didn’t shun better-known plants like pansies and daffodils, he was also interested in having unique items. When several of his horticulture colleagues paid a visit and walked the garden with me after Ray died, oohing and ahhing over various specimens, I took note all over again how special that part of his legacy was. I also recognized how important it was for me to learn how to take care of it; otherwise, it would only be a matter of time before it was gone.

And so that February day found me outside, preparing to remove the blanket of leaves that still enshrouded the planting beds, with an aching in my heart as I longed for Ray and wished he were there to help me remove those leaves. As I started clearing the beds, I noticed a number of the perennials Ray planted were beginning to emerge from the soil. Seeing those plants and knowing they had persevered through the cold, dark winter gave me a glimmer of hope. If they could make it through that stark season, maybe I could survive my season of darkness.

Little did I know, gardening would become my passion, providing many moments of hope and healing, as well as a very real connection to Ray. Not only has God faithfully provided for me and my family since Ray’s death, but He has ministered to me over and over again through the beauty of his creation. While “playing in the dirt”, I’ve been reminded of his promises, seen tangible examples of Scriptural principles, and found solace for my soul.

This blog is born of a desire to share some of what I’ve learned spiritually and horticulturally. I hope you’ll come back to the garden with me.

Awesome God

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Oh come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!
Psalm 95:3-6

I recently spent several days vacationing in the Southwest. I flew into Albuquerque and out of Las Vegas. In between, I put over 1000 miles on a rental car, visiting sites that left me awestruck and constantly using words like incredible, majestic, and vast, and their synonyms in a feeble attempt to describe the wonders that unfolded before me.

As I traversed parts of New Mexico, Arizona, California, and Nevada with my family, observing one magnificent sight after another, several thoughts replayed:

  • The scale is totally different from what I’m used to in Georgia. Everything was massive and open. We could see for miles and felt dwarfed by rock formations, canyons, and deserts.
  • What must the first inhabitants have thought when they reached the edge of imposing topographical features like the Grand Canyon or the Mojave Desert? The same with the settlers who came after them. Did they have an “uh oh!” moment and think about turning back? And how about those who built the railways and roads? It took tremendous effort to get across the rugged terrain.
  • Plant life was less varied and sparser than at home, yet I marveled that anything could survive in such harsh conditions.

But one thought surpassed them all and provided recurring background lyrics for our journey: “How great Thou art, Lord! How great Thou art!” Though I often think that when working in my garden, surrounded by colorful flowers, lush greenery, busy bees, and beautiful butterflies, the grandeur of the sites we visited gave me a greater sense of God’s supremacy, omnipotence, and boundlessness. Like Job, I confessed, “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth.” (Job 40:4)

The more I’ve pondered the sights I was privileged to see, the more I realize that the answers to all my wonderings come back to God, the One who spoke this beautiful world into existence, who imparted wisdom to those created in His image so that we might problem solve, build, tend, and persevere, and who sustains even the tiniest plants in the harshest conditions.

Photographs can never do justice to the beautiful sights they represent. Still, I hope they, and the verses I’ve chosen to accompany them, will encourage you to magnify the Lord with me as we exalt His name together (Psalm 34:3).

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable (Isaiah 40:28).

Behold, these are but the outskirts of his ways, and how small a whisper do we hear of him! But the thunder of his power who can understand (Job 26:14)?

Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit (Psalm 145:7).

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him (Psalm 8:3-4)?

Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty? They are higher than the heavens – what can you do? They are deeper than the depths of the grave – what can you know? Their measure is longer than the earth and wider than the sea (Job 11:7-9).

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance (Isaiah 40:12)?

I will extol you, my God and King,
and bless your name forever and ever.
Every day I will bless you
and praise your name forever and ever.
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised,
and his greatness is unsearchable.
One generation shall commend your works to another,
and shall declare your mighty acts.
On the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.
Psalm 145:1-5

Homesick

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Philippians 1:21

To Stay or Go?

Many Christians have a life verse that sums up their calling and motivates them in their walk with the Lord. I have so many verses that sustain me depending on what I’m going through that I long thought it would be impossible to pick just one. I finally realized Philippians 1:21 was it.

After the Apostle Paul made the bold declaration recorded in that verse, he went on to say:

If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account (Philippians 1:22-24).

Paul was in a Roman prison when he wrote the letter to the believers in Philippi. Surely, he would have been better off had the Lord delivered him by calling him Home, yet he was willing to stay for the sake of the gospel and his brothers and sisters in Christ.

Holding on for Our Sake

I thought of this passage multiple times as I sat by Mom’s bedside as she spent the last days of her life in the hospital. I can’t imagine the pain she was in or how much she suffered, physically and emotionally, after she had surgery to repair her hip, broken in a fall. She was barely ever still, and the bruises from the fall, her surgery, and multiple blood draws created a pitiful patchwork on her paper-thin skin.

Those caring for her marveled that one so tiny could endure so much. Yet those of us who knew Mom best recognized the determination that had kept her going when faced with difficulties throughout her life, based on her faith and summarized in her life verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13). After loving us so well for so long, it was as if she didn’t want to leave us, even though it would have been so much better for her to depart and be with her Savior.

Letting Go of Loved Ones

Mom was my best friend, lifelong cheerleader, and most ardent prayer warrior. I couldn’t imagine life without her, much less praying for the Lord to call her Home. Even so, after watching her struggle mightily without making any progress toward recovery, that’s precisely what I did.

Still, she lingered. It was only days, but they were days that felt like months, as one dissolved into another. A friend observed, “Maybe there’s one more person for the Lord to touch with her life.” Perhaps there was.

Mom passed away ten days after she fell. She had fought the good fight, finished the race, and was pain-free in the presence of Jesus at last. I rejoiced in her victory over death, secured by the blood of Christ (1 Corinthians 15:54-57).

Longing for Home

I recently had the opportunity to visit my childhood home. When the current owner noticed my second slow drive-by, she came out to see what was up. As I approached her in the driveway, I introduced myself and apologized for bothering her. I was so overcome with emotion that I could barely speak the words: “I grew up in this house.”

I didn’t ask to go in, but even after exiting the house for the last time 37 years ago, I can still envision the exact layout of the rooms, as well as the furnishings. And when my dreams feature a house I’ve lived in, it’s always that one, despite the fact I’ve lived in my current home almost three times as long.

Pondering the wave of emotion that swept over me as I stood in front of my childhood home has led me to wonder what it will be like when I get to my forever Home, the one Jesus is preparing for me (John 14:2-3). I bet it will feel familiar and oh-so-perfect because, as C.S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Promised Reunion

Mom and Dad, my husband, baby sister, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters-in-law, friends – the list of loved ones who’ve gone on to Glory keeps growing. Just as watching loved ones suffer changes our perspective, making it easier to let them go, having more loved ones in Heaven makes it even dearer. Though being in the presence of Christ is enough to fuel our desire to depart and be with Him, the assurance of a grand reunion adds to our longing for Home.

I began with my life verse, and I will end with one of my very favorite passages, one that gives us that assurance and makes me want to shout, “Hallelujah! I can’t wait!” whenever I read it:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:1-4).

Dear Lord, we long to be with You and rejoice in knowing that one day You will call us Home to live with You forever. Until that day, please help us be faithful to walk worthy of Christ’s gospel and diligent in completing the good works You’ve prepared for us.