An Invitation to the Garden

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic,“Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). (John 20:11-16)

I'm here in the garden again, weeping, mourning. 

I can't remember all the different woes that have driven me here in the past. The last time I was here, it was loneliness that brought me; the time before that, it was brokenness or some other grief. The garden is where my grief takes me - where I go to seek what I feel I have lost. 

And every time, without fail, I meet the Gardener there. Every time, He asks me the same questions: "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" And I answer Him, I tell Him my woes, my losses, my griefs. I tell Him what it is I need.

And then He says my name: "Nora." And I am flooded with equal parts conviction, forgiveness, and relief. Because I discover anew each time I visit - no matter what lost item I was seeking that day - that it was the Gardener I truly needed, it was His voice I had to hear, it was His distance I grieved and mourned. 

All of this realization comes in that one word, my name. It is only then that I recognize Him and regret my tears, my unbelief, my forgetfulness. It is then that I see He is all I shall ever need. And in that word, I know His forgiveness. 

Today, I am driven here, grieving Friday's crucifixion. I mourn His death - and my sins, which made it necessary. I wander the rows of trees, searching for comfort, wounded by my disbelief. And that is where the unfailing Gardener finds me and asks me what He has asked me each time I have come looking for Him: "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?"

This time, I say, I have lost my Jesus. This time, I mourn death's victory over Him.

And with one word, He dispels every cloud, shakes every speck of doubt from the crevices: "Nora." And with that one word, I realize, for the first time or the thousandth time, that He is risen - He is risen, indeed! 

This truth is the same truth that ought to comfort every grief, no matter what it is that drives me to the garden. This truth is the truth I am always seeking, whether I know it or not.

So whatever you think you are seeking, come to the garden; He will find you here.