In my garden,
My still, small space,
Weeds have claimed the flower's place.
My straight and narrow garden path
Is choked by vice
That finds the cracks
In my resolve.
How I regret forgetting Him!
It's time to let
The Gardener in.

In my garden,
My soul's repose,
My pride unchecked soon overgrows.
It blocks the light
And heavenly dew
The flowers thirst--
Scant filters through
Pride's deathly shade.
How soon neglect the sunlight dims!
It's time to let
The Gardener in!

Behold He's knocking at the gate
My heart I'll open to Him
I'll grow again my sin forgiven
Father grant thy perfect pardon.

Behold He's knocking at the gate
Christ waits with love unfailing.
His hands still bear the marks so telling
Of His labor in the garden.

In my garden,
Now clear of sin,
I'm free to walk the path again.
Bright virtue blooms,
Sweet fragrant smell,
Look! In my tree
Has come to dwell
The Holy Dove.
I'll come to hear
His song again
And daily let
The Gardener in.

Behold He's knocking at the gate
My heart I'll open to Him
I'll grow again my sin forgiven
Father grant thy perfect pardon.

Behold He's knocking at the gate
Christ waits with love unfailing.
His hands still bear the marks so telling
Of His labor in the garden.

I'll come to hear His song again
And daily let the Gardener in.

Words by Toni Thomas
Music by Diane Tuiofu

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