My dad gave me my first guitar, a used 12-string he bought from a friend, when I was fourteen. For the rest of his life, whenever we gathered as a family or when he had friends over, he would say, “Lori, go get your guitar and sing for us!”
I sang a lot of John Denver (he always asked for “Jet Plane”), Anne Murray (especially “Snowbird”) and the ubiquitous 70s praise songs “Come to the Water” and “Pass it On”, among others I learned in church youth group.
My dad was not a believer until just a few months before he died at eighty-four, but throughout his life whenever I had my guitar near he would request the hymn, “In the Garden.” It amused me that he wanted to hear it so often, since he wasn’t sure he even believed in God and certainly didn’t have a personal relationship with Jesus for most of his life. But he sure loved the song!
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses
And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known
He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing
And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known
Written by Charles Austin Miles, 1912