As Holy Week moves toward a well-known bittersweet ending of grief and anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane, my heart ponders what the wait meant to Jesus and His three closest disciples. Asking a simple question of John, James, and Peter, “Will you wait with me?” Jesus moves deeper into the garden for His last encounter with His Father before His death.
Having only a short time before sung the Hallel at the last Passover meal with His disciples, the words of the last song, Psalm 118, particularly the last verse:
“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”
would have fortified both His own human heart and those of His beloved men for the events yet to unfold. Still in this lonely hour He sought the comfort of those He loved to the end as they waited with Him in the darkness.
Will You Wait with Me?
My heart laid bare before you
in sorrow, our parting sure.
Our time, but brief bears comfort
sweet, a oneness evermore.
Anguished. Alone. Afraid.
Remain one hour watchful
Will you wait with me?
A small share in my suffering
but slumber beckons deep.
Still, my heart to you for succor
turned, beholding only sleep.
Could you not one hour wait a bit with me?
In grief overwhelmed
With doubt overcome.
Panic filled with horror
of that which still must come.
Prayers poured pain through pores
like blood before my Father’s Throne.
Can the consecrated cup pass?
or must the wrath be borne?
Thrice my pleas arose,
Thrice my sorrow sought
your solace for my own, yet
in slumber steeped you rested.
While I remained alone.
Alas, this cup it cannot pass;
For you I drink it full
until my heart poured out must be,
Would you?
Could you?
Wait with me?
Though Jesus asked but a small thing of these three disciples: simply wait with Him in His darkest hour, they failed. Wait one hour, stay awake, share His sufferings for this last brief time on earth.
Jesus asks the same of me. Whatever suffering life may place before me, a trifle in comparison with His. But He asks the same question, “Will you wait with me?”
An invitation to fellowship amid suffering, He beckons me come, wait with Him in the midst of my soul’s turmoil. Yet all too often like the disciples, I misunderstand, wallow in preoccupation, or worse withdraw from Him in my own sorrow.
Here afresh this Holy Week I surrender my own suffering into His hands, and by His grace spend a privileged hour waiting with Him.
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Donna, this is both beautiful and encouraging. I have been thinking about what it means to wait as well this week so this spoke to my heart. May I “by His grace spend a privileged hour waiting with Him.” Thank you for sharing this post with me!
Joanne, waiting is never easy, but I am learning waiting with Jesus in my suffering is much better than waiting for Him to act in the way I expect. I learn so much more about Him and myself.
So true Donna ! And your poem is beautifully written and impactful. 💖
Thank you, Margie, for your kind words and sweet encouragement. I rejoice that you found a blessing in my poem!