Today is Mother's Day and if your mother is still alive, please take time to visit her or at least call her. The older I become, the more I understand how much it means for parents, especially senior parents, to hear from their children ... every day. Getting older can result in the feeling of becoming more alone and wanting to her from your children. I wish that I could call my mother today. It is almost 18 years ago that the Lord took her home in an auto accident. There is hardly a day that goes by that I don't wish that I could call her to see how she is, to share things that are happening in my life and to tell her that I love her. But that will now have to wait until I get to glory. But if your mother is alive, you can still do that. Don't wait. Tomorrow could be too late. In memory of my mother on this Mother's Day, I am repeating her favorite hymn this week. I had used it in November of 2008, on the 15th anniversary of her death. This hymn was written by C. Austin Miles after his having read the scripture passage of Mary Magdalene's encounter with the risen Jesus in the garden of Joseph. What a joy to know that we can live and walk in the presence of the One who loved us enough to die for us. Our time with him in prayer and meditation and service should be a time of great fragrance and beauty much like what you would experience in a peaceful, beautiful flower garden. And yet it pales in the light of the promise that we shall one day be with Him in the new home He is preparing for us. And who can begin to comprehend what my mother is experiencing today as she walks with her Lord, in His presence. That was her desire and longing.
(1) 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.
(2) 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.
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.
(3) 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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment