the Eve of being loved
I have the teenagers go downtown to grab a sandwich, and I sit in the house alone for a whole half hour, liberated of earbuds that I sometimes use to manage the bursts of cacophony when they’re here. I light a candle, the last bit of “Illinois,” a scent curiously determined by a company called “Homesick,” my bare feet up on the couch. I am set now.
This is a moment of decision–a decision processed in front of you, with these words, and not shared only after distillation. I know what I want to say, and I am in the process, with you, in discovering it.
Here is the day in my life where I write, or endeavor to write, without self-consciousness. Without guardedness. Without second-guessing. What if I wrote, I wonder, from a place of feeling enough and good, free and wild? What if, instead of thinking through how this piece of writing will be received before I share it, I just trust the words that want to come, listen to the deeper beating of this one heart?
I think that would be today. So I begin here, with hope, for I have spent the past week thinking about my life without God. (Now, that’s a surprising juxtaposition, I know.) Specifically, I have been considering how, if I were Eve (and I am) I would do the exact same thing as she did: let myself be deceived because I believe I want more than what I have. Like more is good for me, like the more I have isn’t enough.
I’ve lived most of my life that way–which, is, really, not really living. And if I had done this exercise of writing these words a week prior, or a week prior to that–contemplating my shame and confusion at being separated from God due to my sin–I would have surely self-destructed, disintegrated into self-pity and the condemnation that comes from not loving who I am, wishing I were something more.
But, while I let myself feel the shame and confusion that comes from imagining the first sin of the angels, and then Adam and Eve’s sin in the garden–contemplating the sin legacy I’ve inherited–I also ground myself in God’s love. This allows me to feel the desolation of sin and then, the consolation of God’s love. How else could I continue to stand?
For it is a fight, isn’t it, to be loved? It is a fight to keep believing you are loved. It is a miraculous Christmas morning kind of gift, the kind when you don’t catch your parents in the middle of the night on Christmas eve putting together the Barbie motor home, sticking on the tiny stickers to make mirrors and bookshelves. It is the kind of gift that surprises you with its goodness because you realize how much you don’t deserve it but you accept it all the same. Because you are desperate for it, in the best possible way.
I am realizing the deliciousness of desperation. It is so good to be desperate to be loved. To picture yourself without God. To imagine the legacy of the first sin–the angels at war, given full ability to choose God’s love or not, and some saying heck, no.
That is the legacy I live, and the legacy of Eve–my sister who was given everything, all of God’s companionship–authority to rule a kingdom, make decisions, be free and cared for and then listen to the lies of Satan that told her: she needed more.
I can believe that so often–that I need more. The kind of more that makes me feel powerful. The kind of more that makes me feel indestructible, immutable, unable to be damaged or hurt. It is lonely here, I have learned, to ache for validation, to look everywhere, in the form of relationships and recognition and acclaim to try to prove one silly point: I am not quite as broken as I feel I am. When, actually, being broken is just the best place to be.
And I say yes to it–from my couch in my living room, alone and quiet for exactly twenty minutes until the house is rumbling again and the dog continues its rolling snore at my feet. And I notice the sparkle of noontime, the light on the flowers, the absence of smoke in the sky, the texture of the scraggly beard of the guy on the sidewalk, he and his dog on a suburban-style adventure this propitious October day.
I am a disaster without God, and I love that I need him the way I do. It is not a weakness; it is not a flaw that needs to be corrected. He lets me choose Him. And in that freedom, I take a step, this moment, in appreciating the legacy of love. Yours and mine.
For the Loop Poetry Project, write a poem that responds to your contemplation of Eve. Consider what she was given, who she was. Let your imagination show you, in visuals, the Garden of Eden. What was it like there? How did Eve feel before or during or after the fall? How are you like her or not like her? How are you letting yourself be loved right now, in this moment? Is that love enough? Is it lacking? What is your heart longing to speak? Please share your poem here, in the comments below, or with the lovely community of Loop Poetry Project.
With expectation,
Jennifer
9 Comments
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Pure Love
Simple and pure, fresh and undisturbed
that is what Eden is to me
How could such perfection,
the loving creation of God himself,
not be enough
It puts an ache in my heart, my gut
to contemplate it
Such beauty, everywhere
what more could one ask for
For there was love,
love of a man, love of nature
love of God pouring out like a waterfall
never before seen
But it wasn’t
enough
She wanted more
and more
and so was tempted
by evil
How did she think that what he offered
would be better?
would make her feel complete, powerful?
It was a lie, as is the world around me
a complete and total lie
It brings a tear to my eye
and makes me sad,
makes me sorry
for my own lust, my greed, my selfishness
How could I think there is something better,
just out of reach
unnamed and unknown?
Each miserable day it is there
gnawing, tempting, pulling
me apart and stirring the empty pit at the heart
of my soul
an emptiness i created
out of restlessness, loneliness, jealousy
and greed
stirring with a dry branch pulled
from a dead tree
poking and taunting at the entire periphery
of my being making me question,
making me restless
How
how could I have let it take root?
It’s spindly, clever, tangled, grasping
brilliantly festering system of beliefs that,
at some point in time,
took on a life of it’s own
I fight it now
seeing it for what it is
what it truly is and where it came from
From pain that has not been cast free
but held onto
What good did it do?
to keep it, like a souvenir
or a trophy to be displayed
But it is old now, dusty
It serves no purpose for it’s truth
is exposed
Let it go
in the dust
Grasp it and crush it and watch
the fragments crumble
Free
set yourself free
And know the love you sought
was here all along
It was here filling you,
guiding you and saving you
all along.
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Dear Rose, your poem speaks to deep places in me. This push and pull is familiar, the pain something I have had to give to Him–but yet am so grateful for his help in my grappling, my aching struggle with sin. I love the powerful imagery you use, as well as your conversational tone. It pulls me in and helps me to enter into the experience with the poet.
Thank you so much, sister. What was it like for you to write this?
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Eve is bare.
She insists on being seen. I do, too.
Out of the trees she comes to hide in the open.
She puts on her clothes.
She runs away from God
Afraid of what he might think of her
Knowing that beau is also forever changed.
“My life has changed!” she exclaims.
She is scared
But she wanted it so bad.
Her shame covers her
She cowers
She is heard
There is LOVE.
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Anna, wow. I have kept re-reading this. So stunning. So powerful. It all just gripped me. Those first three lines…then the fourth line..oh, it is all so compelling. I love the imagery and tension of being bare, then covered…and oh, this line, “Out of the trees she comes to hide in the open.” Wow. And that last line. So beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing this with us here.
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Eve
I sit in the gardening
Contemplating is there more to this
I’ve always known God
Always relished in his love
Until one day
I found myself feeling something
I never felt
& that’s when it approached me
Slithery and slimy
I wondered what it is
Until it spoke
It spoke of things I never knew possible
It spoke of possibilities I thought I’d known
I accepted the lies
I went out and did the unthinkable
I ate from the tree , God forbid
I thought by doing this I’d know more
I’d know power
But
I was wrong
Overtime I learned
nothing
is better than Gods love
Nothing is worth more than that
Not even power
I realized Gods love
Was
Power
There is power in the surrender
Power in the vulnerability
Oh how now I’m wise
Now I flee the lies
And the devil
I thank you God
For your forgiveness
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Eve
What if
I ate the forbidden fruit?
Would there be more to me?
Would knowing more, here
Meet that never-satisfied internal longing?
What if
i had not eaten the fruit?
Would i know what I know now?
Would i know God’s Love as being
the root of all sense of completeness?
What would I long for then?
Where did this longing even come from?
If He knows the beginning from the end,
Surely, He knew this of me?
What if
i was made to eat the fruit,
to long for more,
in order to know the fullness of Love?
In order to love from a place of understanding that
Love fills you up
The gaps, the longing, the yearning
Love makes a home there.
What if
I knew what would have come after,
If I knew of the redeeming Love
Would i still have eaten the fruit?
Would i still have hidden in shame?
Are these flaws?
Or are they my design?
Is Love the answer?
Is it the real question?
Is it the be-all and end-all? The beginning and the end?
I think Love is.
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I really appreciate this poem and message, Musta. I connected with Eve.
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Eve & me
Eve is a woman of details
Needing to know
The reasons for the yes and no
She knew God and from the beginning felt His love,
He created her to be in His love.
She knew man,
The first Adam created to be her love.
She believed, she knew every animal, plant, flower and tree in the Garden,
Until that day, when that unknown made her question His love.
She was asked by the one she did not know…
Do you want more than all of this?
Can you give me more than all this?
“Yes” says that deceitful, cunning one
the one who envied His love.
That moment, that day is when lies, confusion
overtook Love.
She now knew the details of sin that brought … shame, guilt, pride, disappointment.
In that moment she knew she had to hide from her Love.
But her Love never left her, in time
In time, He would send His second Adam
To be a free gift of Love
He would call her name, in His time
To reveal her true self,
to say goodbye to the shame, guilt, and her pride
To live in His fullness of all the deeper details of Him
Of her true self,
in a life truly surrendered to His Love.
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# loop poetry prompt
Eve
Coheir, equal in stance
Naked, with no shame
Fully woman, inherently valued
Filled to the utmost
Created to be creative
Safely ensconced
Fearlessly Free
Beloved daughter
Walk now this way
remember the cost has been paid
The path cleared to move unafraid
Let my light invade
Surrender all fear and all pain
My Kingdom still your domain.