Thistles and weeds have no story to tell
And now, every voice was silent. It seemed as if even they very zephyrs were stilled. Nothing moved or made a sound. A solemn yet portentous hush had descended over the whole scene. I stood alert, and wondering what new wonder was about to break forth. I hadnít long to wait. It seemed like anything could happen and my emotions were keyed and tensed while I anticipated the next event in breathless excitement. Then it came.
I still did not notice where the signal came from, but suddenly, once again, the whole garden burst into lovely harmony. Once again they were united in heart and voice to render a sermon in song and I well knew it was especially for me. The marble angel desisted from sprinkling diamonds on fair faces and the little fishes pushed up through the water to add their quota of melody. Even the face of the fish pond took on a solemn air as it ceased to shimmer in the sunshine while the song was being sung. The redbreasts disregarded the three gaping mouths and set aside personal joy for the obligation of ministry, to me. My senses were thrilled beyond power to describe. No stereophonic rendition will ever be able to duplicate such supernatural harmony. Apart from revelation, none of us can ever hope to hear such supernatural music this side of heaven. I was at once transported in spirit to heavenly realms, swept out of this world into another and better one. Such blessed emotion as was experienced then is impossible of description, as many saints have discovered.
The apostle Paul confessed his inability to describe what he saw in the third heaven. No one ever could or ever will be able with human tongue and language to describe the glory or joy of the Lord. The third heaven, with Jesus, is our goal. However, thank God for His rich grace and goodness. He sometimes gives us a wee taste of what is to come, and this was it, like heaven upon earth. Truly wonderful! Wonderful and beyond description! These experiences are not common. Life would be so different if they were. But that would be heaven. For this short while of preparation for what is to be, Ďthe just shall live by faith,í in order to create the right kind of appetite for the eternal.
The second song, for that is what it was, was sad and solemn, enhancing the message of the first by contrast, drastic contrast! I well knew too that the whole garden were united in purpose, eager and anxious for me to clearly see and receive this message once and for all, the beautiful mystery of Ė Beauty through labour and pain. A burning love for all these things with which I had such affinity, sprang up in my heart, these flowers and things that had trodden a road such as I had been called to do. But thoughts became submerged in this deluge of ecstasy as my ears were ravished with this trinity of delight, the theme, melody and harmony of this second song. The first one had been lilting and gay. This was slow and appealing, and deeply moving both as to message and melody:-
Thistles and weeds have no story to tell,
No power to charm with a smile.
All look askance at the place where they dwell,
None pause to gaze for a while.
No one would bother to labour and toil
Since they can never bear fruit.
So, the wise gardener, since beauty they spoil,
Plucks them clean out by the root.
Nobody cares for thistles no, and nobody cares for weeds.
No one would dare, with a heart full of care,
To come seeking some help for their needs,
Everyone sees they are selfish!
No rich experience through pain
No skills to sympathise bless or condole
No noble character, no sweet control
No fruits to strengthen a worn weary soul
Seeking but personal gain.
No part with us in this picture so fair
No voice or skills for refrain
No fragrant beauty to grace the sweet air
Cumbering the ground they retain
Harmful to others, rejected by all
Unkempt and ugly and wild
Torn from our midst and flung over the wall
Languishing, lonely, exiled.
Donít be a thistle and donít be a weed!
Let the wise hands have their way!
Yield to their wisdom in word and in deed
Patiently willing each day
Donít ever doubt their true love and their skill
Working a miracle grand
Wait till the springtime, your beauty shall spill
Gracing the air and the land.