Come to the Garden Read online

  “While studying the Song of Ascents, I vacationed with my husband and parents in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. It was my first visit to Maine, and it was beautiful. The beach was wide and long, the sun bright, and we had many cool breezes, a wonderful respite from the suffocating summer heat of Houston. One morning early in the week, I pulled out my Bible after getting myself settled on the beach. I began to read while other people began filing down to the beach with their chairs and towels and beach bags. It was very quiet—just the sound of the waves of the distant tide. After a while, I began to hear the soft strumming of a guitar accompanied by several voices singing along. I glanced over and saw an ever-growing circle of people sitting in the sand, laughing, talking, and holding their coffee cups, obviously enjoying one another’s company. Every once in a while, another person would arrive and was greeted with great joy and big hugs all around. I learned from my parents that this was a large reunion of a French Canadian family. Several of them traveled to this spot every year, but this particular gathering would include many who had not seen each other in years. A big feast was planned later in the week that would include at least fifty family members.

  “This was a musical family, and soon other instruments appeared, more voices joined the singing, and they were singing in French. It was so beautiful to listen to that I had a hard time concentrating on my reading. Then I was struck by a most amazing revelation. Isn’t this remarkably similar to what was happening in the Song of Ascents, as the Israelites made their pilgrimage to Jerusalem? Families that traveled together, loved one another, and sang together, filled with excitement and anticipation of arriving at their destination, their journey culminating in a great celebration feast . . . a celebration of love? Even I was included, as I had traveled a great distance from Texas to Maine to spend a week with my beloved parents. Suddenly the centuries had melted away, and I was a member of the peoples of the pilgrimage—God’s people. As I thought this very thought, a voice inside me said, “It is all tied together, Jennifer.” My breath caught in my throat. I slammed my study book shut, closed my eyes, and prayed, Praise you, Father! Thank you. I opened up my book again and wrote those words and the date on the page.”

  I paused. Margaret was nodding her head vigorously up and down, looking like she wanted jump in. I let her speak.

  “It is all tied together, dear one, more than you realize,” she said. “First, listen to what Isaiah says about a particular mountain in scripture: ‘In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’ ”

  Margaret smiled as my eyes widened in surprise. That scripture was a pretty good description of my dream. She continued.

  “Jennifer, your dream reveals several truths about the magnificent journey you are on as you live your life on earth. Your journey begins under the watchful eye of a shepherd, and his joy increases as you move ever closer to the pinnacle in the distance and begin your ascent, because he knows what awaits you at the top. You, along with countless others throughout the ages, are on a lifelong pilgrimage to discover the Savior—the living source of love, grace, and truth. Each of you ascends the mountain at your own pace, depending upon the burdens you carry, and as you draw near to the Savior, your perspective begins to change. Hope, joy, and peace no longer seem unattainable. Then, as you meet Christ on the mountaintop, you encounter your future and are forever changed. As you make your way back down the mountain, you are a new creation, a beacon of hope along the path to encourage those just beginning their pilgrimages. And, Jennifer, pilgrimages are joyful events! They begin with great anticipation and end with celebratory feasts. It is no wonder the feelings of joy and anticipation remained with you when you awakened.”

  I loved how my angel was tying all this together. “One of the reasons I was so moved on the beach that day in Maine, Margaret, was because when I realized how similar my own journeys and celebrations were to the pilgrimages and feasts of the ancient peoples I was reading about, I felt really connected to them,” I said.

  “Actually, you are more connected than you think,” said Margaret. “The Old Testament feasts celebrated by God’s people throughout the centuries foreshadowed the future, accomplished in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The Old Testament feasts of Passover, Unleavened Bread, and First Fruits are celebrated in early spring. The Feast of Weeks is held in early summer, and the Feast of Tabernacles is held in the fall—the final harvest festival. Your New Testament Christian celebrations of Good Friday, Easter, and Pentecost parallel the Old Testament harvest feasts and are held at the same time of year, in spring and early summer. There is, however, one Old Testament feast that has not yet been celebrated in New Testament times: the Feast of Tabernacles, the final harvest. Only when Christ returns will he gather his people to him in the final harvest. Can you imagine, child, how great that celebration feast will be?” Margaret’s eyes sparkled, and I was reminded of the angel’s sparkling eyes in my dream.

  “As you were speaking just now, Margaret, a wonderful picture formed in my mind. I envisioned that the long line of people in my dream streaming to the mountain is like looking down on the Earth from God’s point of view. God is watching his beloved children march along the time-line span of the ages from Old Testament days to the present day and into the future. Marching toward him. Standing with many others in an unending line with my suitcase in hand, I am an active participant in this ancient tradition. And one glorious day, all of us, all nations, will come to the mountain of the Lord, just as Isaiah has foretold. That will be a marvelous celebration indeed. I can see why the angel in my dream was so excited for us!”

  “About that angel, Jenn,” said Margaret with a mysterious smile. “You may have noticed that I referred to him as a shepherd.”

  I nodded, curious.

  Margaret leaned in close, her voice just barely above a whisper and said, “Jennifer, that wasn’t an angel . . . it was Jesus. And you were one of the dear little sheep on his T-shirt.”

  She grinned as my mouth dropped open in surprise, then continued. “I told you earlier that your dreams reflect the character of God, who exists in the past, present, and future all at the same time. In this dream, Jesus was the one guiding and watching over you as you journeyed toward him on the mountain. He does not just wait for you to reach him. He is with you every step of the way. And this is what your Shepherd calls to his sheep:

  “The past, present, and future are all tied together, dear one, and I watch with joy and excitement your journey toward me.”

  Wow, I thought. More goose bumps. I was one of his little sheep. I would really like to have that T-shirt.

  Trinity

  Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word.

  HEBREWS 1:1–3

  Still marveling over the revelation that we are lovingly and joyfully shepherded through life by Jesus, I finally removed my 3-D glasses. As I laid them on the table, several sharp barks interrupted my thoughts. All three dogs were huddled around the back door, scratching and whining to be let inside. How odd, I thought, it is such a nice day outside. The pups were quite insistent, so I gathered up the 3-D glasses and hurried over to let them into the house.

  Stepping back out onto the porch, I sensed strangeness in the air. It was still nice out, but there was an oppressive feeling that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. Hmmm, I thought. Maybe it is some atmospheric thing that dogs can sense and humans cannot. I walked back over to the garden to join Margaret, and as I sat down in
my chair, I was stunned to see that a miraculous change had taken place in my angel friend’s appearance. Her entire being was radiating a glow of light, forming a halo all around her. The color of her gown had taken on a decidedly shimmering silver hue, and a huge silver shield now rested at her side against her chair. Light continued to radiate from her eyes, making those merry blues look somewhat fierce in their intensity. My sweet, funny Margaret was now appearing to me as the guardian in guardian angel!

  She rose from her chair, and I noticed she had become significantly taller. I did not speak because I knew she was gearing up to say something important. I was too overwhelmed by what I was witnessing to say anything coherent anyway.

  “Jennifer, in your life’s journey with our Lord, you have learned a great deal about listening to him and that his messages may take time to understand. The Word of God speaks to us where we are, and he teaches us as we are ready to receive. And now our Father has deemed you ready for some messages of great importance.”

  Just as she finished speaking, a strong breeze suddenly picked its way through the tree branches above. Clouds began to swirl overhead in a darkening sky. The breeze increased until it was no longer a breeze but a steady wind picking up leaves and sending them skittering around the yard and across the patio. Startled birds took flight and went in search of the protection of a nest or secure tree branch. At first I thought this might be another approaching summer storm, but when I looked up at the dark clouds racing above our heads, I knew that was not the case. I had never seen anything like this. The air turned chilly, and I saw dark shapes flitting in and out of the swirling mass above. The sense of oppression grew heavy, and I began to feel afraid.

  Margaret reached out and took my hand in hers. Immediately, the fear and sense of oppression I was experiencing vanished. And, oddly, Margaret and I were completely unaffected by the wind. It was as if we were enclosed in a safe cocoon. Uh-oh, I thought, here comes another one of those serious heavenly angel moments!

  Her voice was now much louder and commanding. “Jennifer, I want you to stay seated so that you will remain within our protective cover,” she instructed. Our protective cover? I covertly tried to peer around me, wondering if there was something or someone else I was not seeing but, of course, I saw nothing. Margaret continued. “The next two dreams we are going to explore were powerful and a bit frightening, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, they were,” I answered, my heart beginning to pound.

  Margaret leaned down slightly and looked directly at me, her intense blue eyes, now reflecting a steel-gray hue, penetrated mine. “Jenn, do you know what spiritual warfare is?”

  “Um, I think so,” I replied cautiously, dreading where this was going. This is a subject I didn’t like to think about. “From what I’ve heard, I believe it is the constant battle being fought in the spiritual realm by God and his angels against Satan and his followers.”

  “You are quite correct, and that is why you are now seeing me as a warrior. Spiritual warfare was active while you were dreaming these next two dreams. God sent me and others much mightier than me to guard you while you dreamed and received his messages. Make no mistake, the Enemy did not want you to remain in a dream state to receive God’s message. You needed help and we were there. Hear what the Word of God says: ‘For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.’ ”

  Gulp! That was a sobering thought. All I did was sleep and dream while the powers of light and darkness waged a war around me. It was frightening, but at the same time strangely comforting—yet I admit I was at that moment seriously considering purchasing a night light for use in the foreseeable future!

  As if she could read my thoughts, Margaret laughed softly and said, “Don’t be concerned. This happens all day long, every day, Jennifer. God is always watching over his children and fiercely defends those who bear his mark on their souls.”

  She picked up her shield and moved to stand behind me in my chair, placing her right hand on my shoulder. Her grip was so firm and determined that it hurt a little. “I will remain right here while you speak of your next two dreams . . . Let’s begin.”

  The night is ink black as I run down the street to get back to my home. Others are doing the same, knowing full well that we are in great danger. Just as I leap into my house and slam the door closed, a tremendous, house-shaking roar fills the air, accompanied by a blinding bright light. Immediately there is a large explosion, and I hear screams of agony outside. I do not dare open my door because I have no idea when another of the harbingers of death will fall from the sky. It has been happening all night and I am exhausted. I want the morning to come so badly, because I know that with the dawn we will have a respite from the death and destruction until the following dusk, when it will all begin again. Some on the news are saying it is solar flares; others say the stars are falling. All I know is that they are points of light that fall indiscriminately from the sky and slam into the earth. Several more of these things fall throughout the night, and all I can hear are explosions and the agonized screams of people caught outside. I am aware that I am dreaming and I try to wake up, but it doesn’t work, so I hide in a bathtub for the rest of the night. Finally, it falls quiet as the light of the morning sun fills the sky.

  Breathing easier now that the new day has arrived, I get up and prepare myself to go outside and try to attend to anyone needing help. With some surprise, I notice that I am very pregnant. I move slowly down the road, stepping carefully so as not to trip on the large amount of debris and rubble. I do not see any people, injured or otherwise, so I assume they must have already been helped or have found shelter. It is so very quiet. All I can hear is gravel and broken glass crunching beneath my feet. Suddenly, I realize I am in labor and am going to give birth right here on the street. I deliver my baby in a hospital laundry cart. It is a little boy! I pull him up into my lap and am amazed at how big he is—he looks to be the size of a two-year-old. He looks up at me with admiring big blue eyes, and then astonishingly he says, “Hello, Mother!” and smiles at me. We stand, he takes my hand, and we head back to the house together. It is mind-boggling that this naked, newborn child is so grown up, can walk and talk. He completely takes charge, as if he is the one taking care of me. I do not have a word to say, all I can do is smile at him.

  The day passes, apparently peacefully, because the next scene I remember is strolling down to the shore of a large, peaceful lake with my beautiful boy. He still wears no clothes, and he stands at the silvery water’s edge, turning to look at me with his wonderful smile. I begin feeling anxious as I notice the sun is low in the orange sky behind him. With the setting of the sun, the terror from the skies will return. I call out to my child that it is time for us to go home. He stays where he is at the water’s edge and says to me, “Mother, I have to go to my father now.” “Your father?” I reply, mystified. I have no idea who this child’s father is. “Yes, Mother,” he replies, “my father is the sun.” He turns away from me and points directly at the setting sun. With that, he begins to wade deeper into the water. “No! No! Child, don’t go in the water, you will drown!” I cry out. My beautiful boy turns back to me and smiles. “Don’t worry, Mother, I will be just fine. I am going to my father now, but I will always be near if you need me.” He wades out into the calm silver water toward the setting sun and disappears. Strangely, his words have a great calming effect on me, and I no longer worry about my child. I turn and leave the lake behind me.

  Time passes, and in the next scene, I am being swept through the middle of town in a raging river. I, along with many other people, am fighting to keep my head above water as we are pushed along by the strong current. I can see shops and docks along the riverbank and lots of debris floating in the water with us, as if this is some kind of flood. I look over the heads of several people and something catches my eye. I suck in my breath, absolutely stunned. There, floating as calmly as can be in the water across the river from me, is my little boy! He smiles
his big smile at me, and I can hear his voice as if he is whispering right into my ear. He says, “Don’t be afraid, Mother! You see? I am always here!” The river becomes calm, and I lay my head back in the water and just float, completely relaxed. I am no longer afraid. Finally, I awaken.

  I swiveled in my chair to look up at Margaret. Without removing her hand from my shoulder, she spoke. “This is a powerful dream our Lord has shared with you, my child—particularly in its energy and imagery. I’d like to hear your immediate impressions of it.”

  “It was powerful,” I agreed, “and when I woke up, I was exhausted. I experienced so many conflicting emotions associated with the mysterious images in the dream—stars of terror raining from the night sky, a pregnancy and birth, the setting sun, a large peaceful lake, and a raging river. And the child. As I began to think about the dream, I puzzled over the comment by the child that ‘my father is the sun.’ Then it hit me with a force that took my breath away. Not the sun, but the Son! I knew there was an important message buried deep inside this dream, but I really could not get my head around it enough to come up with any reasonable interpretations, so I laid it aside, trusting God would reveal its message when he felt I was ready. The only thing I knew for a fact was that the child in my dream was Jesus.

  “And, okay, the laundry cart. I know exactly where this image came from. When I’d had this dream, I was working for a hospital system in Ohio and had recently been assigned an office in the basement of one of the hospitals in the laundry department. Some days I literally had to climb over mountains of bags of dirty hospital laundry in order to get into my office. Apparently, it caused enough stress to make its way into my dream.”