Let your mind be quiet, realizing the beauty of the world, and the immense,

boundless treasures that it holds in store.

–Edward Carpenter

One of the things I most enjoy about Easter is watching its lingering effect on those who participated beyond the egg gathering. I am privileged beyond words to meet with a precious group of women twice a month who are writing their memoirs and our conversations, over coffee and homemade cookies this week, centered on our Easter worship experiences.

The scent of spring flowers that decorated our various places of worship, the rush each one of us felt when proclaiming, “He is risen! Hallelujah!” and the music producing appreciative tears are experiences we enjoyed talking about.

In the 1970s I think we called such a moment a “natural high!” In my experience, these rushes can best be described as a sudden awareness of God’s spirit, as if He’s moving deep inside to remind me of His presence.

I also experience God in a very direct way out in my garden. This fact almost makes me laugh because I’m a moderately successful gardener at best. I want to be great and establish a prolific patch of land. And I adore the raised beds my husband built for me years ago. They are modeled after the beds I observed the first time I visited the Captain Whidbey Inn. The problem is I dream big and plan well, but I get busy. The garden is far enough away from my house that I’m known to forget to water the beds often enough as they dry out quickly.

Nonetheless, God meets me out in my garden and He was there a couple of Saturdays ago when the clear blue sky and moderate temperature drew me outside. I happily pulled new garden gloves over my hands and turned mulch into the wintered soil as my Chihuahuas raced over and around the boxes. Their silliness made me laugh and the sunshine that warmed my back reminded me of how good it is to be alive. The scent of freshly cut grass filled my nostrils as my son mowed and ideas for a spectacular garden swirled around in my head. I enjoyed seeing my neighbors work in their yard and in no time we met in the middle of our shared road to plan an impromptu wienie roast.

It was there, standing in my garden, where I met God. He did not come in a rush of grateful tears or as a tingle down my neck, but in a pure wash of contentment. Utter joy. For a few moments I thought, “Life doesn’t get any better than this! All’s well in my world!”

He came not because I deserved the moment, but because I quieted my heart and soul. I stepped away from the Internet, my iPod, phone, and planner. I cleared my head of looming deadlines, unmet expectations, and personal hurts. I hollowed out a spot for God to come because I wanted to experience Him for a few minutes. I longed for Him and He came.

To connect with God this week, let’s sneak away for a few moments. Find a spot in your world. Begin the practice of clearing your head and heart. This must be done to make room for God’s presence, but it takes concerted practice and we will not always be successful. If singing quietly or praying brings peace and openness, begin in that manner. Ask Him to come and make His presence noticeable to you.

Next week we’ll continue by looking at ways to quiet ourselves and create hearts more open and aware of His touches.