The Garden

By Dawn Hatchett

One woman’s journey through the garden with Jesus as her guide. He takes her through lush landscapes and hidden chambers within her own heart.  Together they explore how to release painful memories, forgive the wrongs done and reclaim the childlike wonder we were all born with. In doing so, they tear down the notion that God is too remote to be intimate with us.

 “He calls to our hearts all day and night, but it’s always been up to us to listen.  We are hardwired to hear him. We are created to be resonators of his love and when we pay attention, we can feel every hidden chamber within ourselves open and sing.” 

“He stands in front of me, clothed in white, smiling with kindness and love. He takes my hand, and the breeze lifts my hair as we step into the garden. The horizon is wide and vast, the sky a deep sapphire blue. The breeze comes and is heavily scented with all that grows here. Jasmine, licorice, vanilla, an array of flowers.  The path is made up of Thyme and is soft under my bare feet every step brings its fragrance.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781636308876

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The Garden

Dawn Hatchett

ISBN 978-1-63630-886-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63630-887-6 (Digital)

Copyright © 2021 Dawn Hatchett

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

The Courts

The Gates

Love Gate

Hope Gate

Faith

Worship

Imagination

Eye Gate

Revelation

Touch Gate

Fear of the Lord

Mouth Gate

Reverence Gate

Gate of Intuition

Will Gate

Gate of Reason

Conscious Gate

Choice Gate

Ear Gate

Nose Gate

For the ladies of Zion, Nonie, Judy, Velma and Sarah.

I wanna build you a garden

In a dry and desert land

I’m gonna find a river there

I’m gonna find a river there…

For I have seen a withered soul

Fall like petals on the water

I have watched a flower grow

Slowly rising towards the sun…

—Jason Upton, The Garden Song

Author’s Note

My heart sings songs of love and adoration to my God and King, Yeshua. He is all I have ever wanted. It took me forty-five years to figure this out. My journey began when a good friend gave me a book titled Intimate Life Lessons by Linda Boone. That book changed my life.

I surrendered to him. Then he took my hand and led me on a journey through some of my most difficult experiences. This is part of my story told over a five-year period, in small pieces, from my journals.

He calls out to our hearts all day and night, but it’s always been up to us to listen. I know this. We are hardwired to hear him. We are created to be resonators of his love, and when we pay attention, we can feel every hidden chamber within ourselves open up and sing.

You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.

—Song of Solomon 4:12

I see him when I close my eyes. I hear him in the quiet of my heart and in the turmoil of my mind. He stands in front of me, clothed in white, smiling with kindness and love. He takes my hand, and the breeze lifts my hair as we step into the garden. The horizon is wide and vast, the sky a deep sapphire-blue. The breeze comes and is heavily scented with all that grows here—jasmine, licorice, vanilla, and an array of flowers. The path is made up of thyme and is soft under my bare feet. Every step brings out its fragrance.

My love, my heart, reside here with me, he whispers to me.

My pulse races from the touch of my King, my God, my one true love.

Dance with me.

He twirls me among the orange, lemon, and lime trees; and I laugh like a child.

Fill me up, Lord. I receive all that you have for me. I trust you, I say, intending to mean it, feeling I don’t fully. Not yet. He looks at me, knowing this.

"Let it go then," he says gently, letting me take a moment to obey him.

I open my right hand and let a small rough stone fall to the ground. It represents the worry over my son. The Lord picks it up and puts it in His pocket.

Don’t be afraid, my love. I am well able to carry every burden.

I hang my head in shame. He lifts my chin and stares into my eyes. He shows me no judgment—only love—and I know I am safe here with him, forgiven of every blunder. He smiles, and we dance and laugh together in the soft golden light.

Your son is mine. I love him so completely. He is protected and held here in my hand. Nothing can remove him. Don’t worry, he sings over me, calming my every worry.

Thank you, Lord.

The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.

—Psalm 9:9

Lord, take the key to my heart. Show me the garden within it, the one you have planted.

Write it down, I hear him whisper to me.

At first, I don’t understand what he means, and then I remember what was spoken over me years ago: that I would be a scribe in the kingdom. So I begin to write what I hear and as I do. I begin to see. I see my heart with a lock in the middle of it; it is old and worn. He takes the key in his strong hand, puts it in the lock, and turns it. The door swings open. Immediately, the scent of jasmine pours out, and soft yellow light floods into the dark. Leaving the key in the lock, the Lord takes my hand and pulls me inside the garden.

Follow me, my love. I have much to show you.

He smiles at me, his face radiant and warm. His eyes are of every color and dance with love and humor. I am enveloped in his kindness, cocooned in love. I can’t help but smile; and when he touches my hand, my skin feels whole, well, and young.

Step in, he says.

I take a step into a clear, shallow pool of crystal-clear blue water. My feet are washed clean of all dust. The water is music. It was playing different notes, depending on which way it’s flowing—over rocks, under roots, over my toes. My whole body is washed by my feet being in the stream.

Overhead are vibrant green branches that bend down to me; and as I think of different fruits, they appear perfectly formed, ripe and ready to pluck. They are so beautiful. As I reach to pick a nectarine, I realize I’ve let go of the Lord’s hand. I look around but don’t see him anywhere. The breeze comes softly and plays with my hair. I hear his voice, warm and playful.

I’m right here. I won’t leave. Keep exploring.

So I smile and take a bite of the nectarine I have picked. The flavor floods my mouth bright and sweet, the best I have ever tasted.

Follow me, he says, and the scent of vanilla carried on the wind surrounds me.

I step out of the water and onto a soft, mossy path that leads through lush green hedges that seem to be alive and dance in the breeze. As I step, flowers appear in every color, and their faces turn toward me. I come to a clearing enveloped in green and surrounded on every side by flowers. There are no shadows here. In the center of the clearing stands the Lord, the wind stirring his hair; and at his feet is a small firepit with the remnants of something burnt in it.

What is that, Lord? I ask and point to it. It seems so out of place here.

This is where the weeds and chaff get burned up. As we find them, we pluck them up by the root and throw them into the fire. In their place, we plant flowers, herbs, and fruit trees. You are a fruitful garden, my love. There is no room here for weeds.

Oh, thank you, Lord!

I twirl around, so happy that he is the one tending my garden.

The Garden, 2014

How handsome you are my Beloved! Oh, how charming! and our bed is verdant.

—Song of Solomon 1:16

You are in the garden. Don’t forget that.

I don’t want to forget that, Lord. I sigh. Lord, help my daughter. Give her wisdom and strength to stand firm on the right thing.

I’m standing in front of the firepit, watching the ashes move and dance. Nothing in here is desolate; everything is alive and moving to the heartbeat of the Lord.

"Lord, I want to know you. I really want to know you. What you think, what you like. I feel that your every thought is wide, vast, and deep, yet clear and cool like the purest water. Oh, how I want to think that way! There are deep murky pools in my mind," I say and drop my hands to my sides.

The breeze picks up my hair and whips it back.

Don’t worry about that right now, my love. We will take care of all the murky pools in time.

He smiles warmly at me from across the pit; yet he is right next to me, behind me, all around me. He is just perfect in balance, love, kindness, strength, wisdom, and patience. He is kingly and authoritative. I’m searching for the right words.

Oh, how he loves us! He is looking into me, and it is both unnerving and comforting at the same time. He knows everything about me. I really don’t