At the grave of the Master she wept,
Early morning shadows around her.
Mary Magdalene,
What a mess she’d been,
Until her Lord had found her.
Now her Lord was gone,
How could she go on?
Her life never could be the same.
Then her eyes flew wide:
Standing by her side,
The Savior had called her name.

O Lord Jesus, we come to you now.
For our sake you suffered rejection.
As you died in pain,
Who could entertain
Some thought of resurrection?
But though death was strong,
God’s plan all along
Was for you to rise from the dead.
Friday’s crown of thorn
Turned to Easter morn,
And all of the darkness fled.

And so now when we stand at a grave,
We know you have been here before us.
We no longer grope
For some shred of hope:
We know you will restore us!
We will trust your call,
For we know that all
Of our sorrows you, too, have known.
In our doubt and fear,
That’s when you come near
To comfort us as your own.

Words: James Ayers, © 2005. Tune: Garden, C. Austin Miles, 1912 [“I Come to the Garden Alone”]