The Father in Eden

I wanna tell you a little story. A couple years ago, in a season where lies felt more potent than the Truth, I went to my parents and asked the most vulnerable, soul-bearing question I could think of:

Why do they love me?

When I asked this, I was expecting something along the lines of, Maddie, we love you because you’re smart. We love you because you follow Jesus. Are kind, creative, etc. Instead, my typically-stoic dad gave an answer that stopped me in my fear-believing tracks:

Because you’re my daughter.

That’s it. No hesitation. He loves me, not because of my actions or character, not because I can earn or lose his affection, but because I am his. It’s as simple (and profound) as that.

Friends, I don’t know what your relationship with your earthly father is like, but I’m sharing this little anecdote because I think we forget that God is our Heavenly Father. He is our perfect parent, which means that His love for us is not conditional to our behavior. In fact, right after God creates humankind, He says that we are very good (Gen 1:31).

Adam and Eve do nothing to earn or deserve this title—my gosh, they’re still lounging around in the dirt!—but are called good solely because their Father says they are.

We have to remember His love, His good calling, because they are the foundation of all He does.

If we go back to Eden and the fall of humankind (I'm pretty sure we all know this story so I'm not going to bother with providing much context), we read that God punishes Adam and Eve's sin in various ways.

But even with His punishments of labor pains (referring to childbirth for Eve and manual labor for Adam) and banishment, we see God still treating His children with abounding love: since Jesus is already destined to become the bridge between the fallen and the Father, there’s no need for Adam and Eve to suffer an eternal separation from their Creator (1 Tim 2:5-6).

So, instead of the eternal one that they deserve, God chooses to give them a temporary separation. They’ll be banished from the garden—they’re no longer pure to be near Pureness Himself and He doesn’t want them to live in sin forever—and spend their remaining days laboring, unsatisfied, with God-shaped holes in their hearts just waiting to be filled (Gen 3:22-24).

While it may seem harsh, this curse of laboring, toiling, and wanting is the Lord’s way of nurturing. Like the merciful Father He is, He doesn’t zap His children to bits because—besides the fact that it would vanquish His entire beloved human race—He’s not done with their story.

In their current fallen state, Adam and Eve view their Refuge as an adversary to flee from (which is ironic, since the true Adversary is slithering around their feet), so being apart from Him is designed to humble them, soften their sinful hearts, and make them yearn for Him—their True Refuge—again.

And if this display of nurturing, tough love isn’t amazing enough, think about this: because God is just, the wrong of sin must be made right. This justice calls for Adam and Eve to hang on a well-deserved cross; but God places Someone else on the cross instead.

In their place.

In our place.

Like the perfect parent He is, the Heavenly Father meets His fearful, rebellious children with knowing but loving eyes. He sees their sin, shame, and terror, but doesn’t condemn them.

Instead, He opens His arms on a rugged cross, urging them into His safe embrace.

He just wants Adam and Eve to come to Him, confide in Him.

He wants us to do the same.