THE GARDEN by Pamela McCormick “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.” (I Come To The Garden Alone by C. Austin Miles 1912) I had been going through a trial and I did not feel God close. I even had thoughts that He had abandoned me. It was a week before Easter; I heard that our church had set up a prayer garden with stations set up where I could seek God and pray. I did not know what this prayer garden would yield when I went. The first stop was the cross. The huge wooden cross was so tall. I fell to my knees and wept. My pants were tan, and the mulch was dark, almost black, but I just knelt anyhow and cried many tears. I wanted to say so much to God, but I had no words. My eyes were drawn to some purple and yellow pansies growing near the foot of the cross. I started smiling. Such delicate, tiny flowers, but oh, so beautiful.
14 | M AG A Z I N E N A M E PAGE 3 13
I got up and moved towards the next prayer station. It was just a short distance away. I saw two squirrels chasing each other up a tree and heard a bluebird singing a song. My smile grew bigger. As I moved to the next prayer station, I saw some pink and white dogwood trees. The wind was blowing slightly, and the trees swayed as if they were dancing, causing their petals to fall on the path in front of me. The path was covered with a tapestry of pink and yellow petals, and I felt like a bride walking down the aisle of a church on her wedding day to see her groom. All this because I listened and went where the Lord wanted me to go. It was a moment I will never forget. All my doubts, fears, hurt didn’t matter. God met me in the garden and reminded me that He loved me. “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19 NIV)
