“The darkness of her grief was deep, but not silent. She moved through the garden, each step heavy, each breath a mix of sorrow and reverence. When she reached the tomb, she found it empty.” Sandi
English Dogwood, aka Mock Orange. How strange, to be named for what you are not, and yet still be loved for it. It’s not a dogwood and it is not an orange. It actually belongs to the hydrangea family of plants.
On my morning walks, I spend time in conversation with God as I stroll through each garden. Like the nearness of God brushing against the ache in my soul for His presence, a sweet fragrance drew me to the Bird Garden early this morning.
As I entered the garden, I stood still and closed my eyes as a gentle fragrance surrounded me. It was unmistakable. The mock orange is in bloom. I drew close and noticed dew is still on the beautiful white petals.
As I meditate on the events of Passion Week, my mind is drawn to the image of Mary Magdalene coming to the garden, heavy heart and full of grief. What did she think she would find?
Mary Magdalene’s Story
Mary Magdalene came alone early on the third day, bringing spices to annoint the body of Jesus. Not because she expected Him to rise—not yet, at least—but because she needed to honor Him, to love Him in death as she had in life. The darkness of her grief was deep, but not silent. She moved through the garden, each step heavy, each breath a mix of sorrow and reverence.
When she reached the tomb, her heart sank into a hollow well. The stone was rolled away and the guards were gone. She ran to find Peter and John, who came running back with her. They looked inside and found only the linen burial wrappings.
The two disciples left, but Mary stayed, standing outside the tomb, weeping. All she felt was coldness. The only sound in the garden was of her own breathing, shallow and trembling, like the echoes of a broken song. She stooped, looked inside the tomb and saw two white-robbed angels, one sitting at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus had been lying.
“Woman, why are you crying?” they asked.
“Because they have taken away my Lord,” she replied, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” Mary turned to leave and noticed someone standing at a distance.
“Woman, why are you crying?” he said, “Who are you looking for?”
Mary did not recognize him. “Perhaps the gardener?” she thought, for who else would be here so early in the morning, in the cool of the garden? But His voice—His voice was familiar. His presence, though unnoticed, filled the space around her like a fragrant breeze.
“Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him,” she begged as she turned to leave.
And then, in a voice full of love and sorrow, He said her name.“Mary.”
It was all He had to say. In that one word, in the sound of her name spoken by a voice she knew so well, the healing began. Her sorrow, once overwhelming and all-consuming, began to shift, to soften, to become a memory touched by hope. The garden around her, once a place of mourning, became a sacred space of resurrection.
She turned, fell to her knees, realizing that the one she came to anoint with burial spices, the one she mourned, now stood before her, calling her name. Jesus is alive.
The fragrance of His presence filled the air—not of death, but of life, not of sorrow, but of joy. His presence was the healing fragrance she so desperately needed. It was the healing fragrance that would go on to fill the world, restoring, transforming, and renewing all who would breathe it in.
Mary’s story is a reminder that God’s presence is not just a comfort in our moments of grief, but also a transformative force—a healing fragrance. Just as Mary found Jesus in the garden, we, too, can find His presence in our sorrow, our confusion, and our moments of despair. In Him, we find not only resurrection but a new way of living, breathing, and being transformed by His covenant love.
The healing we long for is not always an immediate change in our circumstances, but the presence of God filling the spaces we thought were empty. His presence is a fragrance that revives our hearts, restores our hope, and fills us with peace, even when we cannot yet see the full picture.
Let’s Pray
Lord, when we feel lost or abandoned, remind us that You are ever near, waiting to call us by name. Let Your presence be a healing fragrance to our weary souls, a fragrance of life, hope, and restoration. When we are surrounded by sorrow, let us breathe in Your peace, knowing that You are with us, walking with us, even when we cannot see You. May Your love heal our brokenness and renew our spirits. We trust in Your resurrection power, knowing that in Your presence, all things are made new. In Jesus name, Amen.
He asked her, ‘Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?’ Thinking he was the gardener, she said, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.’ (John 20:15)
Find a place to shut yourself away from the noise of the world and worship with Charity Gayle, Steven Musso, “I Speak Jesus.“
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