A creative writing engagement with Genesis 3:23-24
“…therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he place the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life.”
As Adam and Eve walked down the road, shoulders slumped, hand in hand, Adam felt the weight of unspoken words dragging along behind them. Each step weighed down with the complicated heaviness of grief, guilt, confusion and wonder.
After an eternity, he sensed more than saw Eve slow down. He slowed to match her pace. He turned to face her, afraid of what he might see. Was she disappointed in him? In herself? Did she think he could have handled things differently? Did she think he blamed her for where they were today? Did she think he was disappointed in her? He wasn’t. Any of those things. He didn’t blame her. In their time together he had come to know her heart. The wonder with which she explored flowers, plants, rivers and mud. The care she took in nourishing his body. The tenderness she expressed when speaking of discovering a new creature. The effort she put into learning new things. How could he be disappointed in her?
And yet, here they were–the garden behind them and the vast unknown ahead of them. He had a feeling this journey would be like none they’d ever known.
“Was it all a dream?” Eve’s voice pulled Adam out of his thoughts and back to the rocks and dirt stuck in his sandals. He noticed the glisten of sweat beginning to form on Eve’s forehead.
“No, it wasn’t a dream,” he responded. “That garden was our home. We came to know ourselves and our world there. We found our voice and gave names to our experiences there. We walked with the holy presence in the dusk of the day there. It wasn’t a dream.”
Eve paused and seemed to be searching his eyes for more. More explanation. More understanding. Just. More.
“So what happened?”
Adam took a breath to consider her question. He didn’t want to have to stay strong for her. He didn’t want to have to have all the answers. Could he risk being honest about his own questions and uncertainties? He couldn’t not. If he held back, they wouldn’t move forward.
“Oh, dear one, I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. The mysteries of the divine are beyond my understanding. I sense that we could not stay there because our story is not over. There is more to who we are and who we will be. And in order to fully discover ourselves, we must leave. Left up to ourselves, we would have chosen to stay. But Holy One knows we must leave, and so is sending us out.”
“But what will we do?” Where will we go?”
Adam shifted his weight and once again became aware of the dirt and rocks on the path. He kneeled down and ran his fingers through the dirt. He had come to know this dirt in the garden. From it came trees, flowers, food and fruit. Birds and animals found rest and safety in that which came from this dirt. Even the Tree–the one he still didn’t quite understand which seemed to hold within itself the knowledge of good and evil–came from the dirt. Holy One spoke of breathing into the lifeless forms and being elated as that Life infused the dirt and the dirt itself took on life. He himself knew this was the very dirt from which he was formed.
“We will do what we know. We will till the ground. We will dig into the stuff from which life will come. We will tend to the soil of our own souls. And Holy One will do what Holy One does…and bring forth life.”