On the outside

Walking into my parents house at midnight last night, I was overcome by an immediate sense of sadness. Sadness because of things gone that can never be recovered. Sadness because I increasingly feel like a stranger with my family. Sadness because my dad's extraordinary gifts have been wasted and now flick away like the dead ashes from an old fire. Sadness because this morning I found out my little 9 month old niece has been undergoing all sorts of tests in the past 4 months to find out why she is not developing as she should, and nobody told me. I feel like I'm an outsider, and yet i know my family loves me. If anything, I have put myself on the outside, shut certain doors to make sure I had some measure of independance and solitude.
My parents are not home yet, they have been out of town. I use the quiet to sit in the beauty of the back garden. It reminds me of the garden of Eden...lush and green with blossoms and fruit trees abounding wherever the eye rests. I wonder what would have happened if my dad would have cultivated some little corner of God's kingdom with the same dedication and creativity that he has poured into this garden. The garden's beauty must delight God...but is He able to separate that from the sadness He must feel as He looks at my father? But the garden's beauty tells me something else...it tells me that my dad cannot be completely dead inside. He cannot have been completely successful at killing his emotions. Otherwise, he would not be able to create such a place of beauty and grace. And suddenly, I find the garden a place of hope. Hope that testifies that no matter how dark things are, nothing is past the power of Jesus's redemption. There must still be a craving in my dad's soul for beauty and light and truth. Perhaps as long as he is able to create this garden, it allows enough space for the Holy Spirit's redemptive song.