The Once and Future Eden

a meditation for Advent

Today’s meditation is from the pages of Pilgrim God…

Pilgrim God is a daily Advent devotional, steeped in both biblical truth and a passionate love for the natural world. It is $2.99 to purchase outright as an ebook, or Kindle Unlimited users can download and read for free.

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Thank you!

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Thank you for joining us!

Before we begin, I wanted to share a Comment Highlight from Monday’s discussion question, in which we discussed how the love for temporary things can teach us more about the love of God.

Hannah Holm

of Swallowtales gave us this beautiful, powerful image:

It reminds me of watching my own children grow. I love every stage, and mourn when it passes. When my newborn starts to crawl, when my toddler starts to talk, when my four-year-old doesn't need to hold my hand, when my nine-year-old stops asking me to carry him. I'm grateful they are growing; each new stage is exciting and fun for different reasons than the one that came before. But why did it all have to go so fast? I love to think about God in His parental capacity. I go through stages. I crawl and stumble and babble and rebel. And I learn, I change, I grow. And I know He's glad for that growth. But I'm quite sure He also loved everything that came before, too. What I see as weakness or failure, maybe He sees as a toddler learning to run. He doesn't roll His eyes and throw up His hands when I fall down. He shouts "It's okay! You've got this! Get up! Here I am, come to me!" and holds His arms open wide, glad that I still come to Him for hugs.

Thank you for this insightful reminder, Hannah!

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Photo by Ibrahim Rifath on Unsplash

Second Thursday

some things are hidden
and some are revealed

very
slowly;

mystery and vision
are holy sisters;
fogbound seas,
mist-crowned treetops,

God’s footsteps
in the hallowed paths
of the once
and future
Eden. 

Back at the start, when the Story was only a Word, Creator-God walked in the garden among the creatures He had made with His own hands and His wild imagination. 

Later, when He was born as a pilgrim into the darkness of the fallen world, He walked again on little child-feet among the people He had made, the ones He had shaped with His craft and each soul He had filled with His breath. 

If we listen, braced against the winter wind, curtains open to allow the season’s chill, we can still hear His footsteps, echoes from the past—or perhaps the future? In the Story, time is unclear. Time is immaterial. We can hear His footsteps still, and follow. 

In Advent, we must allow for mystery. And mystery is uncomfortable. In a true mystery, no answers are expected, no clarity is required.

We need only to stand still in the mist and listen for the footfalls of God, to know which way to go.

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