A Soldier and a Garden

Excellent or Praiseworthy is posted on Monday and Thursday nights.

When Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples across the Kidron Valley, where there was a garden which he and his disciples entered. —John 18:1

Down through the ages weapons have been crafted from nature’s own resources and evolved into mechanized tools with precision accuracy. The intent has always been the same—death and destruction. And, the purpose: to establish power—with fear—by the enemy.

. . . . He knew it would happen. Somehow beneath the aura of confidence and self-assurance he sensed the danger. The enemy was a determined foe with numerous tricks up his sleeve. He had seen his tactics before and knew they could be brutal and without remorse.

He could almost taste the blood pumping in his veins, could feel his heart racing like a marathon runner tearing the ribbon across the finish line. He couldn’t, however, let his feelings determine the outcome. After all, they were depending on him—all of them. He couldn’t let his guard down for one brief second.

He longed for the moment to pass, to awaken to the smells and sounds of the familiar. To once again hear rattling noises as his mother prepared the evening meal, her perfume mixing with the odor of baking bread. The strong memories stirred, even now, sweet stomach juices, in spite of the bile he felt rising in his throat. He could faintly hear his father in the distance, hammering. He knew that his father, calloused hands and arms like boulders, would work late into the night to craft another masterpiece from a chunk of wood. All of the memories came flooding into his mind, like water overflowing a riverbank.

The pounding of his heart reached a crescendo. He mustn’t stop now. He couldn’t fail. The moment seemed like a dream, as if he had experienced all of it a thousand times before. The beads of sweat dripping from his forehead a testimony to his physical anguish. The enemy would soon brandish his weapons, imagining that somehow he would win. But he knew differently. He knew he would ultimately win the battle. The price, however, was incalculable.

As the memories of home faded like a misty cloud he set his mind to the task at hand. He unwrapped his clasped hands. So tense and tightly woven they felt unmovable. He lifted his face and concentrated with every ounce of his being. The enemy mustn’t sense hesitancy or retreat. He felt neither, as he stood and walked out—out of his garden—the Garden of Gethsemane—to face the enemy and win the war.

Let’s always remember that the “battle belongs to the Lord!”

Questions to Share:

1. How can knowing that the “battle belongs to the Lord” give you confidence in the challenges you face?

2. What strength can you derive from Jesus’ experience in the Garden of Gethsemane?

3. If you could express your fears to Jesus, what would you say?