Wednesday, June 15, 2016

In the Garden of God



     We were in California last week saying our sweet bye and byes to my husband's dear mother. She passed away early this morning.

This is one of her favorite hymns:

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, thro' 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.

7 comments:

  1. Sending you hugs and condolences! From what I've gathered she raised a mighty fine son:)

    You know what? I was singing this song last evening beneath soft pink sky while transplanting lettuce seedlings, the air flushed with scent of rain...that rain falls now.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Janet. He is a mighty fine son. More than once, recently, he has had to keep moving even while in the throes of grief. He was terribly reluctant to leave her bedside, but was at peace with leaving her in the hands of God.

      Delete
  2. This was a favorite hymn of my father, also, and he is now in the Garden of God too.

    Sweet memories to your family,
    Dewena

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is a favorite of my father-in-law as well. It seems this hymn is beloved by many from our parent's generation.

      Delete
  3. I had a bit of catching up, learning about your husband in Nepal, your trip to the West Coast...
    Funerals are always difficult occasions; yet, we tend to extract the essence of the person after all is said and done; we get to take a sigh of relief and a smile of recognition. Yes, that life we just celebrated was all those things and more; as we are; as we will be talked about.With every end, seeds are scattered deep and wide, only to flourish miles and universes away, under different skies, spoken about in different languages.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Songs are such bridges, aren't they? I was shaken to the core when my mother sang at her own funeral. (Yes, she had recorded a CD years earlier). Now at 93, we were blessed to be washed over by her gorgeous voice singing, "My Heart Ever Faithful"

    ReplyDelete
  5. My mother loved this hymn. I remember playing it for her on the piano. The lyrics are very comforting. My thoughts are with you and your husband.

    ReplyDelete