In the garden

I think you can tell I created this yesterday, not this morning; it has a definite feel of vigil about it -- either that vigil in the garden on the night of Maundy Thursday, or just that sense of waiting from yesterday...

It would be easy, I think, to sit on that bench and stare pensively at that rock, waiting for something, some truth, to emerge, or for the tree to burst into bloom. But when I look at it, I keep hearing that old Baptist song:


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.

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.

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... (refrain)

Yeah -- it's hokey, I know...  But now that I look at the words (and hear my grandmother singing), I think of my neighbors, who have just enlarged their garden, and set up a table and chair in the corner.  "It's wonderful," she told me last night -- "I can just sit there and watch the sun move over the plants, read my gardening books..."  Lovely, peaceful -- such a simple thing, and yet it brings such pleasure.  And isn't that often the way?  However low we may be feeling, a taste of sunshine, birdsong, and flowers can definitely brighten your day.  Simple gifts...

I hope you find (despite the gray and rain which have surfaced again this morning here) some simple gifts of your own today -- and I wish you a Happy Easter!