I have been there. On a trip to the Holy Land I visited the garden of Gethsemane. It looked just like I had imagined it would look. Those olive trees.
I have experienced my own Gethsemane as well. Probably more than once. My own gardens of pain and fear and loss. A time of hoping against hope that someone would sit with me in the dark. Sit with me and wait with me.
And what I have learned in my gardens of suffering is that I am never alone.
Always God is with me.
Crosses. I have carried my share. Not quite as physically painful as what Jesus suffered. Emotionally painful, yes. And the feeling of being alone.
I found God at an early age, in the middle of my Good Fridays. A young child, sexually abused for years by my father, Jesus came into my life. A gift from seemingly nowhere to a little girl who had little religious instruction.
Given the grace to survive.
And to know I do not carry my crosses alone.
Easter Vigil. Became a Catholic as an adult and my life’s journey changed dramatically.
Light overcame darkness.
Pain from my cross and my Gethsemane still there sometimes but now is offered for all victims. Now there is always hope. I know God is with me.
Always. No matter what.
New life. Resurrection.
Wishing you all a blessed Easter.