An Easter Story

Several years ago I had the opportunity to visit the Holy Land which included a stop at the church in the Garden of Gethsemane. The Garden of Gethsemane lies at the foot of the Mount of Olives. It appears today as it did twenty centuries ago, a most impressive site. This is the Garden where Jesus on his last night underwent the most sorrowful hour of his passion taking upon Himself the sins of all mankind. As a tourist I was encouraged to kneel and place my hand on the rock (which is in the church) where Jesus knelt and prayed: "Not my will, but thy will O Lord." As I knelt and touched the rock I felt his anguish so strongly tears flowed down my face, I couldn't move as I understood the great sacrifice He made for us all. That evening I wrote this poem.

In the Garden

Come kneel in the garden

where Jesus knelt to pray

Our Father, not my will, but thy

He knew the price he had to pay

Come kneel in the garden

Where Jesus wept for you and me

How deeply our Lord suffered

and still - the cross at calvery

Come kneel in the garden

Jesus still hears and cares

Where you can leave your worries

For our Lord your burdens bears

When I arrived home I was moved to write the following poem:

The Good News

I saw a woman weeping and I heard her say

"Is this not where they laid my Lord?"

Then from a distance one who observed the scene

"Women, do not be sorry or weep, nay,

I go to my Father and your Father to prepare the way."

I saw a woman running and I heard her shout

"My Lord has risen - Hallelujah!"

He said our sins died with Him on the cross

This was what His death was all about

We will be with Him in Heaven, not to doubt

I saw a woman singing - her voice was full of joy

She could do naught but spread the word

Of the wondrous things she had seen and heard

We will have eternal glory

To spread His love was her story

I saw a woman praying in humble gratitude

I would capture all I saw and hold it dear

And tell the good news far and near

I would pray for a thankful heart,

to God in glorious magnitude

He is Risen! He is Risen indeed!

(Wilhelmine Mitchell - 1981)