Three Gardens - Part Two: Moments in Gethsemane

I find that the quiet, soothing shade of a garden is the easiest of places to sit and talk with God. I love to go out early, before the dawn, and watch and listen as night transforms into morning. No matter how cold it is, there I am, on the back porch, bundled up in flannel and blankets, before makeup and hairdos happen, before text messages and emails begin constantly beckoning, even before the dog is awake to claim my attention. It's worth it, to hear the crickets and frogs give way to birds, to see a warm glow stretching out and pushing away the shadows, the same way God's mercy sweeps away the dark things in our past.

As I huddle with my cup of coffee in the dim glow of a Bible app, I can't help reflecting on His goodness. I am in awe that His "mercies are new every morning." (Lamentations 3:23). Just like the sunrise, it happens every day. Every single day. 

The second garden is just as important as Eden, the first, because it is a place of transformation. Jesus knelt in such a place, pained beyond desciption by a particular choice. Would he flee, or be crucified? Would he give in to his own human inclinations, or obey God and fulfill his purpose? It was in the Garden of Gethsemane that he cried, and agonized, and finally but fully submitted. "Not my will, but yours." 

It's in this place of decision we often find ourselves, crying out to God for help. But, are we asking for help to do things our way, or are we praying, "Not my will, but yours?" Often, releasing what we want seems just as agonizing as giving up who we are. How could God ask us to change so many things, and change so much? To leave our petty pursuits behind, in favor of a bigger purpose? But that's exactly what Jesus did. He was the son of God, the Holy one, yet he stood silent before slander, abuse, torture and punishment by sinful, lowly humans. He was guiltless, yet he was labeled guilty. He was life itself, yet he submitted to death.

If we are to ever find our way to Paradise, we must understand that the only path there leads through the garden of decision. It's a daily decision--to take up our cross and follow Him. To bite our tongues when we want to give someone a piece of our mind. To smile and wave when we want to honk our horns. To show kindness to the bully, try to cheer up the office grouch, or quietly clean up after our messy kids (that includes the husband, your biggest kid, too...)

Ironically, it's not usually the big decisions--which job to take, which people to invite, which car to buy--that derail us from the right path. These very deliberate choices usually get the thinking-through that they deserve. It's the momentary, every day choices that really get us into trouble. The destructive habits, thoughtless slips and surprise mishaps can add up to a bigger trail of tears than we ever imagined. It's when we neglect the small things, over and over, that we find ourselves so far from God that we have no idea where we are anymore. 

In your longing for Eden, don't stop there. Find your Gethsemane, and go there regularly, about every little thing. If we go, He's faithful to meet us there.  Talk with him about the big mistakes. Ask about the little things. Meet Him there every day, as early as you can. Because His mercy is new every morning. Every single morning.

“I took my troubles to the Lord; I cried out to him, and he answered my prayer.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭120:1‬ ‭