The hymn “In the Garden” has always been a favorite of mine. Whenever I choose it to close out a lesson from The Hope of Glory in an assisted living setting, it blesses the ladies there, too. Faces brighten, voices are raised, and we even come up with a bit of harmony. It’s a beautiful, touching hymn, but I had no idea of its origin.
Thanks to the book Amazing Grace, 366 Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions, I was able to learn the whole story, and I discovered an Easter morning context.
In 1912 when author and composer C. Austin Miles was asked by his publisher to come up with a hymn that would “bring hope to the hopeless,” he opened his Bible to one of his favorite passages in John 20—the account of Mary Magdalene encountering the risen Jesus at the tomb that first resurrection Sunday.
“As I read it that day, I seemed to be a part of the scene,” he writes. “I became a silent witness to the dramatic moment in Mary’s life when she knelt before her Lord and cried, ‘Rabboni!’ (which means Teacher).” (John 20:16) Divinely inspired, he set pen to paper and wrote the poem, “In the Garden.” That same night he wrote the music. Knowing this, I now look at the hymn with a deeper understanding of its meaning. Come to the garden with me as we explore the three stanzas and the familiar refrain.
I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses; and the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.
What gardens in your memory call out to you still? More important, do you hear the Lord calling you to meet with Him in His garden in the early morning light? He’s available any time, day or night, but it’s so much easier to hear His voice before the activity and noise of the day obscure it. Mary ran to the tomb at daybreak. Surely I can make it out to my chair in our living room.
He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing; and the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing.
I can’t hear the birdsong outside with our house still closed up from the cold, but from my chair I delight in seeing the birds through the window. Annie, the little orange cat curled up on my lap, watches them with me. I read. I pray. And sometimes I hear His voice in reply. Earlier this week I was praying about what I should write for my Easter post. I heard three words in my spirit: in the garden. Ask and you may hear Him too. If not immediately, then perhaps some time during your day. Trust me. When He speaks, you will know.
I’d stay in the garden with Him tho the night around me be falling; but He bids me go—thru the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.
How Mary Magdalene must have longed to cling to her Savior by the garden tomb that morning and to abide with Him forever. But it wasn’t her time to dwell with Him in heaven. Instead, Jesus “bid her go” to the disciples and tell them He had risen just as He said. And so she ran to them exclaiming, “I have seen the Lord!” (John 20:18) This Easter, could He be asking those of us who know Him to do the same? To share with others the personal encounters we have had with Him? I believe so.
Now, this beloved refrain:
And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.
Were sweeter words ever penned? If you’ve yet to experience an intimate moment with the Savior, this Easter ask Him to meet you in the garden—the one He’s placed in your heart. He’ll show up. Will you?
Twice a year the discussion comes up about Daylight Saving Time and whether it’s time to do away with it. However, as of now it’s still in effect so most of us spring forward as requested. Sunday, March 12, is the designated day this year.
Spring forward into a new hobby. Preferably one you’ve been thinking about for a long time but never made it a priority. Good advice with any new venture is to dip your toe in the water before diving in. Is your new hobby watercolor painting? Take a class at a local community center before investing in a lifetime supply of paints and canvases. You can always invest later once you know you love it.
I was standing by the pickup counter at Panera Bread while the man behind the counter got the next order ready. “HOPE to go!” he shouted. A young woman named Hope stepped forward to claim her bagged food. As she walked past me I said, “Wow. We could all use some hope to go this time of year!” She smiled kindly at the weird older woman in the Christmas sweater and went merrily on her way. But an idea for a blog post was born.
What of us? As we journey toward Christmas we have temporal hope that families will travel safely, that promised gifts will be delivered on time or family conflicts will be resolved. But our hope to go is also eternal hope, an anchor for the soul (Hebrews 6:19).
Here we are in the in between. Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is still a few weeks away. So how are we to spend this tweason if you’ll indulge my coining of that word? How can we hold on to the best of the last holiday while eagerly anticipating the next?
News outlets have been speculating about the October surprise for weeks now. I suppose that traditionally politicians and parties save up their most damning information against their opponents for the weeks before an election in order to sway the vote in their favor. Releasing this too soon and people will forget. Release it too late and many will have already made up their minds or voted early. Thus, the October surprise.
I turned the corner to be overcome by sunlight illuminating the most beautiful row of red maples I’d ever seen. So spectacular was this October afternoon sight that I coerced my husband into going back with me a few days later so I could get a photo before the leaves fell. Still a wow.
Hmmph, I thought. What if I want to be offended? After all, there are so many things in the world right now that I find offensive! Don’t I deserve to be offended? To be hurt and angry even? Hmmph. Then I read the book. Chapter by chapter I felt a shift in my spirit. A shift from blame to forgiveness, from discouragement to hope, from anxiety to peace, from anger to love. I hope this October surprise outlives the month.
