Thinking He was the gardener, she said, John 20:15
Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him.
I read…the story of the greatest morn in history:The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while it was yet very dark, unto the sepulcher.
Instantly, completely, there unfolded in my mind the scenes of the garden of Joseph…Out of the mists of the garden comes a form, halting, hesitating, tearful, seeking, turning from side to side in bewildering amazement.
Falteringly, bearing grief in every accent, with tear-dimmed eyes, she whispers,If thou hast borne him hence…He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing.
Jesus said to her,Mary!Just one word from his lips, and forgotten the heartaches, the long dreary hours….all the past blotted out in the presence of the Living Present and the Eternal Future.
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.
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.
I’d stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.