The Garden of Eden [theodora]

At times I still tragically ache for those days when we were perfect, those days when we were complete. Only two souls were given the opportunity to dwell in such ecstasy. Did they treasure it? Did they love it? I wonder if when evil broke through the sky like lighting, how it ripped their hearts and tore their minds. Did they cry out in anguish? Did they say, Have mercy on us? And now here, in today, we're always surrounded by forbidden fruit. It is eating us even more than we are eating it.

Oh, take me back to the Garden of Eden. Take me back to the land where my race once felt complete. Take me back to the place that only lives in our deepest imagination. Take me back to sanity.

Now we're here, in the land of death. We are not dying, we are promised hope, yet we smell, see, hear, and feel death as it occupies our surroundings like a shadow hanging on the wall. Indeed, all creation is groaning. Indeed, I am groaning. If one were to break into the private, secret places of my heart they might hear an echo saying, Bring me to peace. Bring me to peace. Bring me to peace. Bring me to peace. Bring me to peace. Oh Creator of all, bring me to peace. My mind is a roller coaster, my heart is a battle ground, all are parts of this thing called human depravity. Bring me to peace.

I hear ancient words sing like lullabies: We are pressed but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned. I need these sacred promises as I might thirst for water or hunger for food. I need them as I need the air I breathe. I need to know this all won't be for naught. I need to know I am worth the fight. I need to know there is a fight worth fighting for. I need to know that hope is victoriously dancing just over that winter horizon.


I need to know (how I need it more than these words can ever say) that because of Ultimate death, there is life. And hallelujah, life more abundantly.