Eden will bloom

The dew drops hang thick and wet on the grasses casting a silver sheen on the fields.
 The slightest disturbance will send them, dripping, racing into rivers down each blade.
I wonder if this was like the days of Eden,
when the mist went up from the Earth and watered it daily.
The days of that perfect garden, have long since faded,
but the thought of it's mysterious beauty still bring wondering.
Still bring longing...a longing for the garden, once tended by man.
Longing, for it's untainted goodness and complete lack of evil,
for it's beauty, simplicity....perfection.

A time, when man communed and walked with his Creator,
a time, when they walked in the garden together.
Perhaps they talked of the plants there,
as I talk with my gardening friends.
Perhaps, God told them of each one's mysteries
and the specialties that they possessed.
Perhaps, they just enjoyed the splendor of that place,
and being with one another.
Perhaps...

But then, the serpent came
and he deceived her.
Maybe it was love, maybe it was misdirected,
but he took what she offered.
The serpent had won, the one rule had been broken.
For the first time, they saw... and shame filled their hearts.
They hid from Him, afraid to face Him,
afraid to acknowledge their sight, to admit their wrong.
And so saddened, He sent them away.

Banished from perfection.
Imagine...  the beauty they had lost,
imagine... the pain they must have felt.
When He called their names in the evening,
man hid himself from God...  for the first time.
The feeling of abandonment, when the garden was closed to them.
The loneliness, when his voice no longer called for them.
When Adam felt the thorns on his fingers and sweat dripped from his brow.
When she felt the pain of giving birth and cried out for His mercy.

Did they know of His ultimate plan
His plan to bring man home?
How could they understand what He would do, How could they know,
that He would send Himself; His son; to be with us?
In the form of that tiny baby, she held in her arms.
He would come into the ever growing cruelty of the world,
where blood would soon be spilled, by man's own hand.
Where pain unspeakable existed.
How could He do that? Why would He do that?

His Creation, was so precious to Him.
He wanted them back, to walk with Him again.
He missed them, their innocence and unquestioning love.
What He had breathed into being, meant more than they could ever know.
They caught a glimpse of it, in the smile of the baby,
knowing that from their bodies, came this being.
This tiny one, this little version of themselves.
But, they could not know, what it was to Create,
to breathe into dust, the breath of life.

He had a plan, a plan of redemption,
A plan, to bring man back, to the garden,
to the days of innocence, purity, love and endless light.
Before this could happen.... evil must play it's hand,
It must come to the end of itself.
Man must see his need of Him,
He must see the darkness, within himself.
He had to understand just what was needed,
He had to choose to see, to acknowledge, to turn, to love Him once again.

At the right time, one day, far into the future
He came.
He was with us once again.
Not everyone could see,
not everyone would believe, that God had really come.
That He gave Himself for us.
for those, who dared to believe,
For those, who looked upon Him, as He breathed his last mortal breath
for those, for those.... it was enough.

They believed with such a depth,
that upside down, they turned our world.
They would give all, to tell this dying sphere,
that God had come.
That He had come for us,
to finish what He had begun.
The seeds had been planted
the seeds of the garden,
Where man can walk with God once again.

We feel His presence and are ashamed,
as He calls our names, ever so quietly.
He reaches out His hand and beckons us,
He speaks with us and comforts us.
We commune together, in our souls,
"Come home," He says "I've missed you.
Come walk with me, in the cool of the day,
let's talk of the garden I am growing for you.
The Serpent will pay his due....and  Eden will bloom once again."



copyright (c) August,13 2012 Beth Wagenius