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In the shadows of the garden
kneels the darker shadow yet
of a man upon his knees
in agony of bloody sweat.
As he kneels, a bloody specter,
mocking, comes before his eyes
of a cruel Roman cross to
torment him in his demise.

In humility he prays with such
a heart afflicted plea,
'Father, if it be Thy will,
remove this suffering from me.'
Yet the ending of his prayer
reflects the faithful, loving Son
as he ends his pained petition
saying, 'Let Thy will be done.'

All the depths of human anguish
came that hour to combine
with the great redeeming pow’r of
sacrificial love divine.
How the angels must have wept
to hear that agonizing cry,
knowing well that human sin
required him that death to die.

To you and me a garden is
a very happy place
where God’s creative genius
puts on such a happy face.
But Jesus was not there to hear
the birds or see the flowers.
His human life was ebbing
in the face of human powers.
In our own post-resurrection world
we really can’t conceive
of the sadness in the garden
on that first Good Friday Eve.