One of my favorite Christian authors is John Eldredge. I am, for the third time, going through his emotional resilience practice in his Pause app. I love the guided prayers that allow me to focus in a meaningful way, and through that focus to connect with God. Guided practice is much more effective for me, as otherwise I tend to ADD out and my mind will not quiet. . . Or I become overwhelmed. . . Or I remember something I forgot to do or a message I forgot to send and I dart off to do it before I forget again. . . You see the problem.
At any rate, the current prayer is to learn to love God (again). Eldredge says that we do this by thinking about or doing things that we really love and enjoy. As we think to ourselves, “I LOVE this!”, we are drawn to the one who created it. We connect to the part of God who lives inside us, the Holy Spirit, and we spend time with him and love him there. He creates an Eden in our hearts where we can walk together. Apparently everyone has their own version of Eden. I’m praying for God to reveal mine.
I love the idea of a garden of Eden. One of the moments of true bliss in my life is when I can bury my fingers in the earth. I don’t want gloves. I want dirt under my fingernails, coating my hands like syrup on the back of a spoon. I want to dig into the coolness under the surface. It’s like I can feel the life coming out of the ground and the plants and filling me with life and joy. It is healing and restorative. That’s what I’d be doing with Jesus. Planting seeds in earthenware pots. Filling an herb garden with herbs and a flower garden with flowers and setting trellises for tomatoes and cucumbers and beans. We’d talk or simply quietly work together, hands in the dirt, giving life to green things. Hungry caterpillars and June bugs would be respectful of our garden and would only eat the weeds. Jesus wears a wide brim sun hat. But he’s still in his robes. He laughs easily. Everything is easy. Easy as breathing. Easy as the sun on your face or the wind on sweat-damped skin.
After we’ve worked we sit in lawn chairs. He’ll drink sweet tea and me lemonade. We’d sit quietly, but he’d occasionally point out an interesting cloud or a bird or a squirrel eating a mushroom. We’d talk about things we’d read or seen or done. I’d unload all of my insecurities and worries because he wants to hear them and take them and heal them. We’d watch the sun turn the sky pink and red and orange as it sets. We’d sit together until the stars came out and the moon was high. Of course we’d see falling stars and of course the mosquitoes would respectfully buzz right past. We would sit and watch the unhurried rhythms of the world he created as he told me amazing things. Things only the creator would know. The best bedtime story ever.
And as my eyes drift closed, the scents of sun- warmed jasmine and roses riding the currents of wind around us, I’d fall asleep with the most profound sense of peace and comfort and joy. I wouldn’t be alone. He’d stay with me. He’d be vigilant. He’d keep watch. He wouldn’t be like the sleepy apostles in the Garden of Gethsemane. And I would REST.
That’s, then, my Eden.
Five Dog Bend 