About Eden...
And what I'm learning about communing with God...
A few months ago, I grabbed my lunch and settled in for an episode of Preston Sprinkle’s Theology in the Raw podcast. His guest that day was John Eldredge. The podcast was entitled “Experiencing Jesus in an Age of Distraction.” Consider me intrigued. Being one who is exceptionally distracted all the time, I paid close attention. It was not lost on me that Preston himself mentioned the challenge he finds in his attempts to experience God. The reason Preston cited was his bent toward the rational, being too cerebral. Like, same, bro. For those of us who live most of our lives in our head, having experiential knowledge of God proves difficult.
Many years ago, I prayed to know God better. He’s been answering in myriad ways. It feels like it began when He led me to read the bible in a year. God has since developed that discipline into desire. I’ve read the bible in a year for over a decade now. It’s been life changing.
Learning about God in and through His word has grown me in my prayer life. It’s as if knowing Him better through His word has afforded me the opportunity to discuss things with him in a more relational manner. Instead of approaching God as some sort of magic genie, I now approach Him as Sovereign of the universe, as well as Dad and Friend. My mind, though, wanders. All the time. In all the ways. As I grappled with how to come to terms with this, God led me to type out my prayers. It’s worked so well for me to see my prayers on the screen, to be able to get back to where I was should my mind take a path I didn’t intend it to.
Yet, in the past couple of years, I’ve felt a pull to make another change. I’m unsure I will ever see my typed prayers fly out the window, but I’ve felt drawn to pray for deeper intimacy with God. God, it feels, has been attempting to answer that prayer by drawing me into discomfort…sitting in silence, as it were. Meditating. Oh, there’s that word that causes Christians to bristle. I used to be one of them. I get it.
The idea first came to mind while watching a video of Tim Mackie preaching about huckleberries. They’re everywhere. Ok, just watch the vid. You’ll get it. Contained within that video was a practice he began of meditating with God. I tried his guidelines and quickly gave up. I just couldn’t seem to make my mind stop and focus in such a way that I could even get close to something like meditation.
Back to the podcast…at one point, John mentioned an app he’s developed called the One Minute Pause. I thought to myself, “I can do anything for a minute.” Surely, it can’t be that hard.
Ever held a plank for a minute? A minute is a long freaking time.
Yet, as I downloaded the app and listened to the guidance contained within the minute, I found that I could do it. Then I could do three minutes, five, ten. Yes, my mind still wanders, but when there’s a voice guiding me, I can more easily get back on track.
After doing the preliminary pauses, I began a series on Resilience. I could definitely use a little more of that. In it, Eldredge speaks a lot about the Garden of Eden. It’s the place where God communed with humanity, and they communed with Him. The temple was meant to be a reflection of Eden, again where God meets with His people and they with Him. Now, we, the Church, are the temple of God. Our hearts, souls, inmost beings, whatever your preferred word is, are mini-Edens where God communes with us and we commune with Him. Sensing a pattern? In a few of the sessions toward the end of the series, Eldredge encouraged us to think of our favorite place on earth, a place that causes us to breathe deeply of the beauty of life, a place that causes our heart rate to settle, our blood pressure to lower. He made some suggestions of mountains or beaches or what have you. If you know me, you know that trees are my jam, most specifically Live Oaks draped in Spanish moss.
I thought of three different locations. The first was Highway 462, specifically the Coosawhatchie, SC exit off of I-95 leading toward Hilton Head Island. I can remember driving that road from college and immediately feeling a sense of calm as the trees sheltered me and guided me home. The second was the beach access we take on our traditional summer vacation where an amazing oak shades us on our walk out to the beach and back to the car. The third was a specific place in Brookgreen Gardens, a botanical garden in Murrell’s Inlet, SC, where the canopied oaks feel like a warm embrace.
Recently, we took our summer vacation. On that trip, we purchased tickets to the Gardens as is our habit. As we walked through the entrance to Live Oak Allée, my breath caught. I got about halfway down the path, and stopped. Tears crept over the rims of my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks. I cry now as I remember the experience. As I raised my eyes to look up, I felt loved. I felt held. I felt seen. I felt peace. I felt the warm, tangible embrace of God that I always pray for others to feel and yet rarely pray for myself. It was Eden, pure and simple. A glimpse of Paradise.
Unwilling to leave, the hubs and I moseyed over to a bench in the shade. I’m unsure how long we sat there, but I know I cried some more and felt held for quite some time. Our first day at the Gardens ended up getting rained out. We returned the following day and we sat in my little piece of Paradise on earth again.
I enjoyed the same experience I had the day prior. I felt intimate communion with the Lord. In my inmost being, I knew this was a shift from the old to whatever new He is cultivating in me. I tasted and saw that the Lord was good, and now I find myself hungry for more.
I’m beginning to believe what I have been taught about God, and my relationship to Him, barely scratches the surface of who He is and how my life is to be lived in Him. True, He is God, the one and only. He is the Alpha and Omega. He is Creator. He is the Almighty. He is Just, and Judge. But He is also Savior. He’s also Father. He’s also Friend. He is a God who cares for me and actually wants to commune with me. He wants to walk in the cool of the Garden with me and spend time with me and allow me to spend time with Him and learn oh so much more about Him than what I have been told, taught, or shown.
He likes me. He really likes me.
God is good and kind. He sees, He knows, He loves, and He cares. It feels as if we have been taught to subsist on the crumbs that fall to the ground from His table like the dogs that we are rather than to realize that we actually have a very real seat at a very royal table. There’s an exquisite place setting behind which a placard rests with our name on it. In front of it is a finely embroidered chair just waiting for us to pull it out and join the festivities.
After we feast, we can retire to the Garden, walking with Him, telling Him everything because He really wants to hear it. We can listen and learn what He would say back to us. We can get to a place where this Garden is the realest part of our day, the part we look most forward to and the part we’re hesitant to leave, even though we know He goes with us.
I haven’t fully grasped all of this for myself, but I can see it. For the first time, oh, can I see it. It’s real. It’s true. It’s Him. If a rational, logical, cerebral, black and white, right and wrong all day long, recovering legalist can begin to grasp hold of this, so can you.
These are the prayers, I believe, asked in Jesus’ name that are granted with a hearty “yes” from the Father. “Increase my trust.” “Grow my faith.” “Cause our intimacy to deepen.” It may not happen immediately, as in my case, but it happens. Oh my goodness, it happens. I never want to return to anything less than this. If anything, I only want to fall more deeply in love with Him.
Let’s drink in the full measure of the glory of our God and never thirst again. Why? Because He’s just good like that.
Beautiful ❤️