A Secret Garden Pilgrimage

It’s not at all what I expected.

Since the release of Rooted: A Spiritual Memoir of Homecoming, the most common response hasn’t been what I’d imagined. Again and again, the questions come, not about theology or writing or craft, but about the garden.

“Can I come and see the garden?”
“Would it be alright if I just sat there for a while?”
“Could I come and share my story with you… there, in that space?”

The Secret Garden. Tucked quietly behind the house, planted with trembling hope, tended as a quiet act of defiance against a fraying world. It seems to have kindled something in people’s imaginations. It was never meant to be a destination. And yet, it has somehow become one.

A woman from Indiana reached out recently. She had read Rooted, and her book group had chosen it for one of their reads in the coming year. At first, she thought she might ask about a ZOOM conversation with the group. This is something I’ve offered to any group reading the book. But instead, what rose in her spirit was something less practical, more tender.

She asked if they might come. Not virtually, but physically, soulfully. She wondered if they could make a “pilgrimage” to the garden. Pilgrimage. That’s the word she used. Not just to talk about the book, but to be in the place where the soil and story entwine. To listen together, not just to words on pages, but to the birdsong between them. To the earth. To their own hearts. To the spirit.

At first, I hesitated. “Pilgrimage” felt like too weighty a word for a backyard visit. But then I remembered: a pilgrimage is not defined by the distance traveled, but by the intention carried. It is a sacred journey toward a sacred encounter. And in that light… yes. Yes, it made sense.

So of course I told her they would be welcome. They could schedule a time to come next summer, sit among the hyssop and the lavender, let the wind stir their questions, and the silence hold their stories.

And the more I’ve sat with this, the more deeply I feel it: I want to open the garden. Not as a destination, but as an invitation. For those who have walked through the pages of Rooted, to come and rest on the very ground where the words first grew.

The gate will be open.

All images @2025 Christy Berghoef. Any copying, usage or reproduction requires owner consent.