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By Christine Tate
Other Poems by Christine Tate



Where were the Lord's friends
in the garden of Gethsemane?
His soul was crushed with grief
as He prayed on bended knee.

"Father, if possible take this cup away
I want your will not mine
as I face the cross alone
to fulfill Your plan divine."

What were the disciples doing
as Jesus anguished there?
They couldn't stay awake
not an hour could they spare!

In this place of tears
we come naked and alone
stripped of self-delusions,
prostrate at His throne.

Heavenly Father I pray,
tho a lonely place it be,
in our Gethsemane. 

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Submitted: Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Last Updated: Wednesday, July 27, 2011

About the Poet
Christian since 1973, widowed in 2007, but by the divine appt. of God, I married a wonderful, godly widower in Oct. 2010. Three grown, married sons and eight grandchildren. My first love is Jesus who inspires my pen, for apart from Him I can do nothing! I desire to honor the Lord and edify readers thru poetry He inspires.

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