stranger in the garden

I was walking in the garden in the cool of the day when I saw him. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

Yet, for some reason I liked him. For some reason I trusted him.

“Hi, Chris,” he said with a big smile. “Beautiful day, isn’t it? Say, I was wondering what’s in the bag?”

Despite being taken aback because he knew my name, I said,” Oh, it’s all of my troubles, all of my problems. Health problems, financial problems, relationship problems, it’s all here. Fear, depression, discouragement, loneliness, you name it, it’s in here.”

“I see,” he said, still smiling. “I’m curious, though, why do you carry them around with you? Isn’t it kind of heavy?”

“Well, yeah, it is heavy,” I replied, “but…they’re my problems, so what else am I going to do with them?”

“Hmmm,” he said, obviously thinking about my dilemma for a moment. Then he asked another question. “So what do you do with your troubles and problems?”

“What do I do with them?” I asked. Shrugging my shoulders I said, “Well, mostly I worry about them. I mean, they are problems, right?”

“Yes, they are,” he replied. “Do you do anything else with your troubles, other than worry about them?”

“Well, sure,” I said, wondering where all this was going. “Naturally I try to solve them, you know, get rid of them.”

“I see,” he said, now smiling again. “So how’s that going?”

I should have gotten angry or defensive, but something about him was disarming. For some reason I liked the guy, even though I couldn’t place him. Even though he seemed kind of nosey, for some reason I trusted him.

So I was honest with him. “Not so hot,” I admitted. “I’m doing my best, but sometimes I think all I’m doing is making things worse.”

Then, sensing he might be able to help, I asked for his advice. “Do you have any suggestions for me?”

Now grinning ear-to-ear, he said, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, Chris. I’m really, really glad you did. Why not give your problems and troubles to me?”

“You?” I asked, wondering how that was possible.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, now leaning close to me.

“Yeah…for some reason I do,” I replied. “I do.”

“Good,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulder. He explained everything as we walked together the rest of the way. In the garden. In the cool of the day.

And I cried.

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”1

1  1 Peter 5:7