April 1, 2025

I am immersing myself into Gethsemane this week, and as I do so along with the Lenten theme of Nipomo Community Presbyterian Church for 2025, “Between Two Gardens,” I pray this prayer and invite you to pray with me.

Peace and Love,
Garrett

“Between Two Trees”—A Gethsemane Prayer

I’ve dodged this garden—
this ground too quiet, too close to truth.
I’ve lingered at the edge,
where the path curves just enough
to keep me in motion
but far from the place where stillness starts.

I’ve filled my days with lesser fruit—
the ripeness of recognition,
the sweetness of control,
the bite of being right.
I’ve tasted it all before.
It never fills.
It only leaves me hungrier.

I know this story.
I know that once we walked with you in Eden,
naked and unashamed,
until we named our will as holy
and swallowed the lie
that we could be gods without you.

And now—here.
Another garden.
Another tree.
But this time,
it is you who trembles.
You who sweat salt and blood.
You who kneel in the night and say
what I have always feared to say:
“not my will.”

How do you do it?
How do you hold sorrow and surrender
in the same breath?

I’ve run from surrender disguised as self-care.
I’ve numbed with newsfeeds
and nourished my ego with noise.
I’ve taken shelter in shallow things
so I wouldn’t have to echo
your trembling “yes.”
But you stayed.
You didn’t hide among the trees.
You didn’t reach for rescue.
You reached for the cup.
And though your hands shook,
you held it.

You drank.

So teach me, Christ—
to walk into the hush
where love does not always rescue
but always remains.
To trust that this trembling is holy.
That the ache is not absence
but invitation.

Not my will.

Not the fruit that promises power.
Not the fear that builds fences.
Not the urge to flee
from the garden where grace grows wild

Not my will.

Not the logic that says pain is pointless.
Not the lie that says I must fix everything.
Not the voice that says surrender is weakness.

But yours.

Yours.

Even here.
Especially here.
Between the tree of knowledge
and the tree of life—
I choose the garden
where your will still whispers
through the trembling leaves.

Amen.