Tuesday, May 7, 2013


Last week when Zach and I were in Charleston we stumbled across the most lovely cemetery I've ever seen. I don't really... like cemeteries. They've always seemed creepy, but this one was different. A lush alleyway from King street lured us away from the high-end shops and galleries only to reveal this hidden garden beyond the storefronts.

Outside the Unitarian Church in downtown Charleston, this overgrown churchyard is over 200 years old. Many of the headstones are so old the engravings have practically washed away over time. The tranquil beauty of this place was rather breath-taking and the contrast between this place and every other cemetery I've ever seen overwhelmed me. Most cemeteries feel like...well... death. There's acres of 1/2" scorched grass topped with rows of headstones and fake flowers. It's so depressing. But this churchyard was so... alive and the juxtaposition between the graves and sprawling plant-life was so severe. And I loved it. I loved how this place of rest for the dead was vibrant with new life through nature. It almost felt wild! To me, this landscape spoke of hope, it spoke of Jesus. And it encourages me to believe that real life, true life, is after the one we are in now.

The symbolism of this cemetery has been engrained on my mind ever since we walked it's narrow paths last week. Not only has it been a symbol of hope for me, but also a symbol of purpose. At the end of my life, I want the seeds I've sown in the lives of others to keep on living, keep on thriving- be overgrown even so that the love of Christ God has revealed through my life can sprawl outwards for His glory long after I'm gone.

No comments:

Post a Comment