I am fortunate and blessed today to be on a spiritual retreat in a beautiful, historic garden setting in the suburbs of Adelaide, South Australia. It is a place called Carrick Hill and I would highly recommend a visit to this picturesque space if ever you get the chance.

While the weather is a little on the dubious side with the threat of showers ever-present, it does little to belie the absolute beauty of this location. There are manicured lawns and hedges and a large variety of trees and flowering plants in diligently maintained garden beds. It is a peaceful setting that encourages stillness and reflection and I am grateful it has been chosen for our destination today.

I found myself being captivated by a large, thick, tall hedge at the bottom of one of the spaces. Its foliage is vibrant green and healthy. In the middle of the expanse is an archway that is cut into it, encouraging the visitor to walk through this lush offering and I was drawn to do just that.

As I was about to enter it, however, I noticed something quite confronting. It seemed that the middle of this hedge, the very heart of it, was dead and brown. It was such a stark contrast to the outer edges of it that it stopped me in my tracks! How could a plant that had obviously received such care and attention over the years have two opposing halves?

If you took this hedge at face value you would assume that everything is fine and dandy, and yet a misplaced heat source could easily consume and destroy this feat of nature.

I began to wonder if this is actually what all hedges do – look green and healthy on the outside while remaining brown and dead within. A bit of online searching told me that it is not how things are meant to be, but often how they become. The heart of the hedge has been denied access to one of the things that gives life – sunlight, and when it becomes as it does it is referred to as the ‘dead zone’.

That, to me, sounds terrible. Imagine at the heart of you there is an area referred to as ‘dead’. But then I wonder how often that is actually true for people. Sometimes there are areas within us that we have not exposed to the light and so it transforms into a lifeless section that we prefer to keep hidden while we push the outer, lush looking parts of us to the surface.

Having a ‘dead zone’, fortunately, is not a terminal condition. By re-exposing these areas to the light it can breathe life back into these spaces, both for the physical hedge and our own personal brown patches.

As I reflect I wonder what parts of my life need some exposure to the light so that more of me can be healthy at every level. I know that these conversations with God may cause me to examine past painful experiences or poor character traits and some pruning that will leave me feeling sore and vulnerable.

This cutting away of the lush, healthy-looking parts, however, is what is needed to stop crowding out the light that will restore health and purpose to that within. It sounds painful, but at the end of it there is hope for a healthier version of who God wants me to be and that is my sincere desire.

I wondered if there was a Bible verse that would encourage me in this space and I found the first book of Peter, chapter five and verse 10. It says this: “And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.”

These words tell me that despite needing to ‘suffer’, it will only be for a little while, and then God, himself, will bring restoration. I can picture the inner dead zone becoming more fresh and green as part of this process and it fills me with hope.

God is still helping me become aware of the areas that need light and I am grateful that I have the opportunity to become more fully vibrant and alive. How about you?

Be blessed.