Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked.
Genesis 3:7a
Ouch!
The fateful morning began as usual. I fed the birds, started my own breakfast, then strolled out to get the newspaper. Whenever I traverse the driveway, be it on foot or in my car, I scan the flower beds on either side, checking for any new plant developments.
As is often the case, I spotted a lovely sight – the freezing overnight temperature had left the ornamental cabbage encased in frost. Seeing them glistening in the sunlight, I knew I had to get a photo! I hurried inside to retrieve my phone and returned to capture the image.
Although I’d walked the same stretch just minutes before with nary a stumble, the second time around, I stepped on an unseen rock, turned my ankle, and crashed onto the cold concrete. My phone clattered to the ground next to me, leaving me to wonder which of us had suffered the most damage.
I was stunned, but my embarrassment superseded my shock, and I got up quickly lest anyone should spot me, prostrate on the driveway.
My right knee complained mightily, and the palms of my hands stung from their encounter with the concrete. Still focused on my goal, though, I winced as I hobbled over to the mailbox bed, took the photo, and limped back into the house.
And then it hit – nausea and light-headedness washed over me. I had to sit down to avoid passing out. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten up so quickly. Perhaps it would have been better to lay there for a moment, to absorb the shock, even if it meant being seen. After all, I’m confident my neighbors would have come to my rescue had they observed my plight, and I could have used a steadying hand and some sympathy.
Dire Consequences
My right hand was swollen and discolored, and both knees sported bruises for days after my tumble. As I contemplated how quickly I went from upright to prone, my thoughts turned to THE fall. You know, the one described in Genesis 3.
Unlike my situation, Adam and Eve had been warned. God set a clear boundary when He told them they could eat of all the trees in the garden except for one – the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:16-17). But the serpent was crafty, and the fruit was a delight to the eyes. Eve ate and then offered the fruit to Adam, who readily joined her.
In a moment, everything changed for them and all who would come after them. Sin entered in, opening the door to death. Undoubtedly Adam and Eve’s abrupt fall was as stunning and disorienting as mine. They plummeted from their privileged position, no longer able to enjoy sweet, unhindered fellowship with God. Instead, their eyes were opened to their nakedness, and when they heard the sound of God walking in the garden, they hid, much as I scrambled up from the pavement, lest anyone see me.
But, we can’t hide from God (Psalm 139:1-16).
A Plan and a Promise
God wasn’t surprised by Adam and Eve’s disobedience. He came to the garden as usual and drew them out of hiding. When they blame-shifted their way through a confession, He declared the penalties they and their progeny would incur. However, God directed His initial comments to Satan. The curse He pronounced on the serpent held the promise of a Savior for His wayward children.
Before the foundation of the world, Father and Son purposed to save those chosen in Him, a people for themselves, a treasured possession (Ephesians 1:3-6; Revelation 13:8). It would cost the Son His life to redeem the fallen, those stumbling around, their steps hindered by sin. As He breathed His last, hanging on the cross, Jesus uttered, “It is finished!” (John 19:30) The curtain in the Temple was torn in two, signifying the removal of the barrier between God and His people. Our relationship thus restored, we can once again enjoy intimate fellowship with God.
Jesus’ atoning death makes it possible for us to approach the throne of grace to receive mercy in our time of need (Hebrews 4:16). Furthermore, when Jesus arose on the third day, He secured victory over death, our ultimate enemy.
Securely Held
There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with my behavior the morning I tripped on the driveway. Still, there are times when I’ve intentionally chosen a path strewn with rocks and pebbles, much to my detriment. Eventually, I lose my footing. Yet, it’s then I’m oh-so-thankful I can’t hide from my loving Father who disciplines and restores me. Though I stumble, I won’t be cast headlong (Psalm 37:24). The Lord has promised to help and strengthen me, to hold me up with His right hand (Isaiah 41:10).
A snippet of lyrics from Rich Mullins’ song, “If I Stand,” has been playing in my mind as I’ve been writing. It makes a fitting prayer to end this post:
(Lord), if I stand let me stand on the promise
That you will pull me through
And if I can’t let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You[1]
[1] “If I Stand”, Rich Mullins, Steve Cudworth; Universal Music, 1988.
The singles group held their Christmas dinner on my birthday that year. After the banquet, Ray presented me with a single red rose. Somehow his gesture broke through my defenses and opened my heart to the possibility of loving again. Founded on friendship and undergirded by faith and shared values, our relationship blossomed.
The last birthday Ray spent with me was no different. When I came home from work that night, he had adorned the kitchen with roses – miniature pink ones for our daughters and a dozen yellow ones for me. And, amidst those beauties, a single red one. Ray also gave me an exquisite pin – a delicate red rose on a gold stem. I still marvel at this gift in light of the fact he died precisely four months later. Ray didn’t know he wouldn’t be around to purchase single red roses on birthdays yet to come, but God did. I believe He somehow nudged Ray to give me the pin I now wear each year on my birthday.
Even so, I couldn’t have imagined all God had in store for me. Two days after losing my job, I began the process of enrolling in the horticulture program at a local community college. Six months later, Joshua, my first grandchild, was born. Not only was he my study buddy, but, accompanied by my mom and my daughter Mary, he also attended my graduation ceremony the following year when I realized my dream of acquiring an Environmental Horticulture diploma.
Granddaughters, Lyla and Emma, joined our family. I’m blessed to spend two days a week with them and big-brother Joshua. Earning my diploma and becoming a grandmother are bountiful blessings, but God has woven so much more into the past ten years. I volunteer at a local botanical garden, serve on our Women’s Ministry Committee, and am available to help my aging parents. I started this blog and published my first book.
I bet it wouldn’t surprise you to know I read Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth each Christmas Eve (Luke 2:1-20). I’m guessing many of you do as well. No matter how many times I ponder it, I’m overcome by the depiction of that long-ago night. The angel of the Lord declaring the glorious news. Startled shepherds, who nonetheless went immediately to investigate this thing the angel proclaimed. And the Baby in the manger. The second person of the Trinity, a helpless babe, the Word made flesh. How amazing! No wonder a multitude of the heavenly host joined the herald angel, praising and glorifying God!
The living room holds not only some of my oldest Dickens pieces but also a Precious Moments nativity. It, too, is a long-ago gift from Ray that elicits tears. But the tears that well up as I carefully place the pieces – various animals, a shepherd boy, Mary and Joseph, wise men, and angels – around the tiny figurine of the baby in the manger spring from wonder and amazement. And deep-seated gratitude.


