My grandpa had a double lot–one for the house, one for the garden. And what a garden it was! Black raspberries, red raspberries, roses, tiger lilies, morning glories, hollyhocks–he could grow just about anything.
Our family congregated at Grandpa’s house for Easter, Christmas, and other major holy days. I don’t know how the house held us all–seventeen of us, usually–but of course we could always have our celebration outdoors, weather permitting.
Well, it was a long time ago. Almost everybody’s dead and gone, except for a few who now live hundreds of miles away. Even the house is gone. And the gardens.
Oh, Lord! Will there be a garden for us in Your kingdom? Will all that has been broken be restored?
We think the empty tomb, that very first Easter, says “Yes!”