A Delightful Mistake

Following several intense days of touring, I needed time alone to rest, reflect, and write. The Garden Tomb had been a refuge for me on previous trips so it seemed the perfect spot. While Alan meandered around the bustling, noisy Old City, I would retreat to the Garden.
From our hotel, we walked along the congested street toward the Old City of Jerusalem. The Garden Tomb was just off the mayhem behind a high wall. The door was closed, but a man came along, inserted a key in the lock of the gate, and started to enter. When I informed him that I wanted a quiet place to write, he motioned for me to follow him. Alan left, and I went off with a man I had never seen before.
I found out that he had been there for forty years, and I told him I was part of a group from America. We ambled up a long path to the top of a small hill. He pointed out a bench under a tree where I could sit. Then he disappeared into a stone building, and I was alone. Even though I had been to the Garden Tomb several times, I had never been in that section. It looked totally different from what I remembered.
Quietness surrounded me as I began to write. Tension from the past few days melted away while I put my thoughts on paper. I noticed two or three cats lounging along the walkway. Two men appeared and talked for a few minutes. Behind the building were several cars which surprised me. The Garden Tomb had always seemed isolated from the traffic and outside influences. Perhaps I was in an out of the way area. However, when I noticed a few more people come from the path and go into the building, I had a strange feeling.
I picked up my belongings and followed the trail toward another wall. Rising above the wall I saw the outside of a large church. I continued my exploration and entered a courtyard with flowers and statues. The doors to the church were all shut. A man quietly came out of a small, wooden door so I decided to see what was inside. Gingerly, I pushed the door open and was overwhelmed by the gorgeous, marble sanctuary. Stripes of rust and white marble framed the gigantic arches and columns. High stained glass windows lined both sides. Arched niches beneath the windows contained sizeable pictures of various saints.
Three huge paintings adorned the altar area. The prominent, center one was Jesus welcoming me with an outstretched hand and holding the Scriptures in the other one. It was like He knew that I needed a place of solitude and invited me to join Him in the lovely, majestic church. A comforting tranquility surrounded me as I rested and prayed.
It was obvious that I had stopped at the wrong gate and entered the grounds of a Catholic Church instead of the Garden Tomb. The man who had graciously allowed me to enter had helped me find my quiet place. The “mistake” of not finding the Garden Tomb was no mistake at all. In its place I had been given a glorious gift—of encouragement, peacefulness, and thanksgiving.

I laughed to myself as I gathered my things and left the church. I hoped that I could find a way to leave through the locked gate and find the Garden Tomb before Alan returned for me. Fortunately, I had seen a young couple turn a lever to get out. Then I quickly walked a short distance to the sign that plainly said “Garden Tomb”. I could not wait to tell Alan about my morning “mistake”.