You’re blessed when the tears flow freely. Joy comes with the morning. -Luke 6:21
She felt her reason connect with want and a surge of excitement put a giggle in her exhale. She felt something tug within. When she made her decision, the flesh on her bones began to tingle with life. If the thought alone was enough to wake the ache that laid dormant in the grain of her muscles, then what would it be like to actually do it?
The fruit made her reach and it tried to hold on to the branch when her grasp tugged it downward. The tree knew she knew some, but not all. The stem held his place, the only trophy for his defiant fight to save her.
Her heart raced and she laughed at herself. Her skin was flushed from the rush of blood and all of this awakening made doing wrong feel more right in ways she never knew existed. Her teeth met fruit and smashed her lip in the process. The juice ran down her chin and, as she reached the back of her hand to wipe it away, she heard the earth move behind her and a twig snapped.
Pain burned his eyes and his mouth couldn’t move as fast as the tornado of confusion whirling in his skull. His chest told him that she had left him and his knees started to give out under his swaying body. Tears thought about offering their services, but once they got close to the storm, their insufficiency made them turn back. He searched his soul for a way to bring her back and he came to an idea that made his spirit try to rip free of his flesh.
Her secret dimmed the light in her eyes, but she didn’t know it yet. The shape in her shoulders told him that she had changed. He stared at her hand and watched the juice run between her fingers and fall from her wrist. He loved her and even though he knew better, he couldn’t imagine being without her. He used his teeth to take him to the place where she went.
Where part of them came alive another part of them died. They discovered that they knew a little, but they didn’t know it all. Their flesh had a choice and somewhere in the night their flesh killed their spirit and the only thing left was a cheap replica of what used to be.
As they walked hollow steps, their shaky voices used empty words that defied the death they both knew was there. The Earth cried out to the Creator.
The grass screamed when she got too close, the tree sounded a whistle when it felt her breath, the fruit shrieked when he caught her hand’s grip and the whole world wailed when God’s beloved spit out the seed.
He waited out of sight to give them their space. Their independence gave Him stay when He wanted to run to them. Their secret became a lie and the lie fed their flesh and killed their spirit. He knew they died when He felt their breath return to His nostrils.
When the defiance turned into despair and shadows became their prison, He came calling. He closed His eyes as the silence surrounded Him. Laughter used to sway the trees and dancing used to light up the dirt. His creation told him the shape Adam’s crouched body had taken as he hid in shame. The shrub told Him that Eve’s tears were soaking their leaves.
She tried to get some sleep, but the hissing voice kept slithering over her flesh.
‘It’s in your blood now, Eve.’ The hissing was all around her and coming from inside her. She ran to the creek and emptied her stomach into the current.
‘You can’t get rid of it.’ It sounded like her voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled on her hair.
‘You’ve ruined everything. He’ll never forgive you.’
She sat on her knees rocking back and forth trying to drown out the accusations with her screams. There was no one she could call for help. There was no escape, no relief, no finish. Death could not touch death. Despair goes too far down.
All of her justifications ribboned through her head like a recording. White noise laced her selfish laughter and a video stutter of her bite…her bite…played over and over and over. The spinning and quaking. The cackling thoughts and visions dragging her in circles by her hair.
The night sears the soul and born is the desire to let go. She didn’t want herself anymore. She hated her independence to the point of hating the sound of her own voice.
That’s how He found her. Dirt found the tracks of tears and juice on her face and hands making them look like a road map of failure and remorse. He sat down beside her because He knew she couldn’t move. Her sorry made mud under her head and words were not good enough to touch the shudder in her ribs.
He told her His story while she lay beside Him. His words fluttered life and the breath that came from His mouth found it’s way into her nostrils making it her spirit stir to life again.
‘Yours is the first of many journey’s, Eve, and you must not forget me when you leave this garden. I chose you before I formed you and I let you choose me. This is the way it has to be and I’ve had it planned even before the foundation of this Earth was in place. Hell will kidnap my children and I will pay the ransom. I’ve always known I would do this for you. I’ll use my life to take me where you are and then I’ll take you home with me. You may cry at night, Eve, but joy will be yours in the morning.’
Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God. It cost God plenty to get you out of that dead-end, empty-headed life you grew up in. He paid with Christ’s sacred blood, you know. He died like an unblemished, sacrificial lamb. And this was no afterthought. Even though it has only lately—at the end of the ages—become public knowledge, God always knew he was going to do this for you. It’s because of this sacrificed Messiah, whom God then raised from the dead and glorified, that you trust God, that you know you have a future in God. -1 Peter 1:18-21