Nurturing My Heart’s Garden

It’s been a while since I properly sat down and wrote a full-on piece. Not just a short text message, a small commentary on a post or episode where I don’t have to think or reflect too much on, or bits and pieces of the day or moments that happen. No, I’m now sitting down to properly write a piece again. And it’s a step to feeding my passion, watering my creativity and pouring oil on my fervour fire.

What I realised this morning during my devotion time with and to God, and as I write down our conversation—my prayer, is that my numbness is not due to doing too much. It’s not due to my physical tiredness. God showed me it’s due to neglect. Which is painful to find out. This numbness of mine is due to neglect of nurturing my heart’s garden.

The past two and a half months have been me running and running and occasionally doing a sprint. I have been keeping my Sabbaths, thank God for that. But I have been doing far too many things, and at the same time. Well, first, when I arrived back from Guiné Bissau on the late evening of the 22nd of May, and only got out of the Lisbon airport past midnight, I directly went to my friends’ house and slept for about 5-6 hours, extremely tired that I was. I wanted to join the two for breakfast and prayer, as I wouldn’t be seeing one of them for a while again, since she was leaving for work. I then went back to bed for a couple more hours, maybe 2 or 3, I don’t remember, but it wasn’t too long and definitely not enough. Then my physically tired body had to get out of bed and start preparing luggage again, to take a shower, leave presents I brought from Guiné Bissau behind, and have lunch with the now two friends again as another one had arrived that afternoon. I didn’t manage to enjoy the full meal, including dessert, because the time came to leave the house to go to the bus station to take the bus home to the Algarve. This was a 3,5 hour drive, which I think I spent on answering messages. Then I arrived around 19:00h, walked to my car, got in and drove to my house, dropped the luggage and all the bags off, took some food or snacks and left the house right away for… guess what? A night shift from 20:00h till 7:00h on the following morning. Who in their right mind does that? Anyway, a client who had booked me months before all this had given birth and wanted to start the newborn babysitting care, aka night shifts every other night, that exact night I had arrived back. And so I went and thought, “You’ll rest when you’re back home”. But then, church activities and responsibilities started peeping out from behind the curtains. Our church has opened a new location in my city, which is something we’ve been praying for for months and years. I had been asked to lead the production team (p.s.: it’s just me in the team), and due to other teams not having a leader yet, except the praise and worship team, I was asked to coordinate and lead every other team as well, until new leaders would be appointed. Just so you understand, there are in total of twelve teams, two of them have leaders, and all the rest don’t. Did you do the math? Even though our church is small, the amount of work stays the same. An amount of work that should be done full-time. And so I added. And then I looked towards my babies, Tashmness & Andorinhas, the two “businesses” or platforms that I am building. The two God blessed me with, and so I grabbed them, held them and placed them sitting on top of the pile.

Regardless of the workload, I respected and kept my Sabbaths, I even went on a 4-day birthday sabbatical, I sought God first and spent my devotion time with Him in the first hours of the day—giving Him my first fruits of my time. I rested, I invested in people, I kept my joy, was at peace, kept my peace as I heard criticism every week, and still, there was a numbness growing that I didn’t even notice until last week. I did the math myself and learned I had been working 60 to 80 hours a week for two and a half months. I actually have done this before, but where my order and priorities weren’t right, and my body and health were affected. This time, my body was fine, I was even running 3-5-7km two or three times a week. I thought I had it all under control. I’m feeling great! I might not always feel my passion and fervour, but I see results. I’m still getting things out there and done. I still see fruit. So, that must be good then, right?

This numbness, wasn’t physical or psychological, it was cardiological. It came from the heart. Numbness grew out of the heart as a result of neglecting it. I wasn’t nurturing it. I wasn’t guarding it, as the Bible so beautifully calls us to.

Proverbs 4:23 [ESV] — “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.”

Proverbs 4:23 [NLT] — “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”

Proverbs 4:23 [TPT] — “So above all, guard the affections of your heart, for they affect all that you are. Pay attention to the welfare of your innermost being, for from there flows the wellspring  of life.”

The Oxford Languages dictionary explains nurturing to be the following: “care for and protect (someone or something) while they are growing.” My heart’s garden is growing. It has been growing beautifully, youthfully and vibrantly for some time now. God planted seeds and has been teaching me how to tend the garden. This garden full of new seeds planted and germinating, young plants, blossoming flowers and blooming fruit, strong branches and some mature leaves on firming trees. What I missed out on is that tending the garden is continuous. You don’t skip on water day, you don’t leave the youngsters directly out in the sun, and you definitely don’t use the same soil over and over again without new vitamins and minerals. Nurturing is continuous.

So, here I am. Walking in my heart’s garden again. Tending. Nurturing. God and I are pruning. Cutting off all pieces that don’t bear fruit, but also that don’t bear enough fruit or the fruit He wanted, planned or designed to be in this garden. We’re tidying up and removing all that doesn’t belong here.

It smells fresh again. I can take a deep breath again. And these purposeful uncluttering and freeing steps are defrosting my passion, creativity and fervour fire I was formed with.