Not your garden-variety love story
Article content
Call it a blossoming romance, 30 years in the making.
In Shintomi, on the southern Japanese island of Kyushu, Yasuko and Toshiyuki Kuroki married in 1956. They spent the next three decades as dairy farmers with a herd that reached 60.
Along the way, they raised two kids.
By the 1980s, retirement was in sight and the couple made plans to see the rest of Japan. But one day in 1986, when Yasuko was 52, she started having trouble with her eyes because of diabetes.
In a week, she was almost blind.
That steep and sudden decline sent her into an emotional crash. With her vision gone, Yasuko refused to travel. Worse, the sunny and outgoing woman would rarely leave the house.
She became a virtual recluse, except for family.
Her husband was at a loss, worried and feeling helpless. Then one day he noticed some people had stopped at the edge of the farm to admire the fragrant, pink shibazakura flowers in his garden.
That made Toshiyuki think that if he planted more flowers, their strong, sweet scent might entice Yasuko out of the house. And if a few people stopped by to chat and lift her spirits, so much the better.
The determined husband retired from the dairy business, sold their cows, and worked tirelessly for two years, planting thousands of shibazakura which are also known as moss phlox. He created pathways right into the fields so visitors could surround themselves with the fragrance of the flowers.
In March of the second year, the phlox blossomed, turning the rolling hills of the Kuroki farm into a fuchsia fantasyland amid the dull green of the surrounding fields. And people noticed.
At first, a trickle of curious neighbours came by, then locals from Shintomi. But when word spread of Toshiyuki’s plan to encourage his wife, his loving gesture and the beauty of the flowers drew people from all over Japan.
Not only was Yasuko drawn out of her isolation, the new situation gave her a sense of purpose. Since 100 people a day were visiting when the phlox were in bloom, Toshiyuki turned a former cow shed into a visitors’ centre filled with photos.
From that time on, he and Yasuko spent most of their days chatting happily with tourists or walking the footpaths on their fragrant farm. Though Yasuko still struggled with her blindness, her spirits were back in the pink, restoring her to the warm and cheerful woman she had once been.
In the Bible, too, the garden is a symbol of love and intimacy, not just the one in Eden, but also the garden in the Song of Solomon, which is an epic love poem about desire and sexuality.
My favourite description of love is in Chapter 8 which talks about a royal seal — warm wax placed on a document then stamped with a king’s embossed ring, to signify authority and authenticity.
“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm,” the writer says. “For love is as strong as death, its jealousy as enduring as the grave. Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame.
“Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers drown it. If anyone tried to buy love with all their wealth, the offer would be utterly scorned.” (vv. 6,7)
Genuine love is infinitely powerful, irrepressibly persistent, and incomparably precious. So it’s no surprise both Jews and Christians have deepened Song of Solomon into an allegory about God and His steadfast commitment to His people.
That love story ends in another garden at the end of time when eternal life will flow from the throne of God and all who love Him will drink freely.
“The Lord God will shine on them, and they’ll be with Him forever” (Rev. 22:1, 4, 17)
Just as Toshiyuki Kuroki was loyal and committed, our God is anything but apathetic about us. Though He won’t force His attentions on us, He knows us intimately, loves us completely, and pursues us continually.
Not that He chases us down until we give up and submit, but in the sense that He stays with us, each step of our journey, even when we don’t sense — or want — His presence. He’s relentless.
While most faiths teach we must reach up to God and earn His love through good deeds and a righteous character, Jesus represents God reaching down to us.
“And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect,” the apostle John says. “We love each other because He loved us first.” (1 John 4:17-19)
As Toshiyuki felt his wife’s pain and isolation, God hurts when we hurt. Keep your heart and eyes open and you’ll find Him amid the pain and loss, ready with comfort, strength, and encouragement.
He refuses to let go when we withdraw. Instead, He entices us out of our isolation with the fragrance of faith and the scent of acceptance; the sheer beauty of creation, and by drawing people into our lives who will love us no matter what.
Nothing can separate us from the love of God — not even our darkest sin (Rom. 8). Experiencing that love is the key to trusting Him and becoming “complete, with all the fullness of life and the power that comes from God” (Eph. 3:17).
Relentless love brings power, peace, and purpose, and it’s meant to be shared in the church.
Responding to God’s love doesn’t mean everything will always come up roses. But phlox are pretty awesome, too.
Share your thoughts with Rick Gamble at info@followers.ca He pastors an independent, nondenominational church in Brantford called Followers of Christ (www.followers.ca) and teaches media at Laurier Brantford.
Postmedia is committed to maintaining a lively but civil forum for discussion. Please keep comments relevant and respectful. Comments may take up to an hour to appear on the site. You will receive an email if there is a reply to your comment, an update to a thread you follow or if a user you follow comments. Visit our Community Guidelines for more information.