Eve - The Women Series

Today we meet the first character in The Women series. And I am thrilled to introduce my very dear friend and kindred spirit, as she shares with us the story of Eve. Our prayer is that many will be touched by the truth in the words here. Please continue to join us each week for this series by checking the blog. Follow by email so you can receive updates to your inbox!

The Women: Eve

First Women, Mother of All

Guest post by, Elizabeth L. Paulson

Read Eve's story in the following sections of scripture:
Genesis 1:26-28; Genesis 2-3; Genesis 4:1-2; 25-26 

Eve, the mother of all, the first woman…..her story lies in the pages of Genesis , the beginning of His Word. In fact, even if you don’t know much about the Bible, chances are you know who Eve is. As I sat down with my Bible to study this “character”, this woman, I asked the Lord to show her to me in a fresh way, from a new perspective. He answered faithfully, and Eve came to life for me! God wanted me to “get into her skin”..so to speak. To see her world through her eyes. To experience the myriad of emotions she must have felt. I felt God leading me to get inside of her head, to know her character better. And, so it came… a monologue, for lack of a better term, from Eve.

Eve, along with Adam, plays a huge role in our human existence, our human story. And, although, she only has a small portion of Scripture dedicated to her, she lived a lifetime. Days and months and years…an intense lifetime to say the least! Remove from your mind now, what you once felt or perceived Eve to be. Read below as if you are her…Eve the first woman.

Abiding Grace

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing”

--John 15:5

Winter's epilogue had left the hardness of ground, leaves crushed like dust beneath the feet. We had waited for clearer skies, for fresh dew upon the earth, for life to return to barren soil, for readiness and new beginnings. We had waited for the fragrance of hope.

In the waiting do we question? Do we doubt the goodness of our Creator, that the Gardner who planted generously would not produce an abundance? Do we speculate that the yield will come up just short of what we need? That there is too much need...?

We are a species driven by results, eager to reap the benefits of our labor, demanding now what is designed in process. In season we may forget that Time is the perfect teacher delivering instruction through small exercises – cultivating trust in the waiting. Beauty is found in the growth. The gift is in this moment.

My girl knows how joy is found. She looks for it, always in a curious pursuit of glory moments. She bends over weedy clover flowers to collect a honeyed bouquet for Mommy. And I am stilled in the midst of the daily striving, by a little child demonstrating the gospel of grace, always open and ready to receive. Hope is when we find joy right here.

“As you wait in My Presence, enjoy the greatest gift of all: Christ in you, the hope of glory!” (Sarah Young, Jesus Calling; see Col. 1:27).

We go together to the raised garden on the side of the house and see remnants of last year's growth. Together we gasp at the wonder of renewal. Two tomato vines entwined about the wires need pruning, the cutting away of the dead pieces. Tiny yellow flowers have begun to blossom and a green tomato, no larger than a marble, hangs tautly on the vine.

I come hungry, seeking the fruits of the harvest yet planted, and hear the stillness of His voice: "I Am the gift. Seek Me above all gifts. I want you more than what you can do for Me."

We take stock of the needs in the garden for the time of planting: cucumbers, marigolds, a few strawberry plants, and fresh herbs to transplant. But one more thing is needed: the soil must be tilled and fertilized to be made ready.

Eagerness compels my daughter to leap up to the raised bed and begin digging in the dirt. But without the proper tools or materials there would be no gardening. So off she goes with Daddy to the local nursery for plants and supplies. They return with arms full of life and potential, and together we work in the garden.

Full of enthusiasm our little girl asks if she can help with every step: the tilling, the fertilizing, the planting, the watering. She works with gusto! Yet there are moments when Mommy and Daddy have to remind her not to go ahead of us in the process, “You need to wait. Be patient.”

Off she dances to an empty flower bed with pink princess shovel in hand singing, “I'm waiting to be patient...”

I belly laugh thinking of how many times I have prayed for patience as a mama! And I recall the value of learning to wait on the Lord and seeking that fruit of the Spirit. Just as the Word cautions that we not be too eager to go ahead of God. Everything happens at its appointed time.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens (Eccl. 3:1).

How do we make the ground of our hearts ready to receive God's will?

How can we wait for patience when we are eager to have the gifts he has prepared and to see the results of the work he has begun? Go to the Word of God which is life, and be transformed by the renewing of your mind (Rom. 12:2).

Come to the well thirsty, dipping buckets deep into pools of grace. When we come in prayer with hearts abiding, we are ready to receive the abundance of the Spirit's power. This is not from ourselves, it is the gift of God (Eph.2:8).

 

O Lord, this is the remedy for we who feel compelled to find solutions to our worries before you have worked them out; who feel pulled in many ways and seek answers that haven't been revealed. Lord, forgive us for our fretting and our need to direct and control. Lead us beside the still waters that we may find our rest in you. Fill us with joy in your presence that we may rejoice in the present moment and keep on working with gusto. For you are the gift that is ever full-filling and always enough. And by remaining in you, abiding in true grace, we will bear the fruit that is promised and so rejoice in the work You have accomplished. Amen.

The Gift of Hope

“...because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness...to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

-- Luke 1:78-79

The morning greeted me with splendor. While the world was still dark, I made my way tired and blinky eyed to the living room. I sat down in my favorite chair beside a dimly lit side table lamp with a blanket and devotional in hand.

A glimmering pink glow peeked through the blinds in the front window, compelling me to open them.

A rosy hued sunrise emerged from behind grey clouds blanketing the morning sky. Small patches of blue broke through where golden strands of light lined the clouds.

As I sat in wonder at the beautiful tapestry that unfolded before me, I heard as if it were expressed in a greeting card, “Happy birthday, dear one.”

Pink is the color of icing on a birthday cake. It is the rose given in affection. Pink is the color of hope.

I felt it warmly in my soul, this blushing golden sunrise was a gift for me this morning from a God who is so personal in his adoration that he would color the sky for me with a message of hope.

“Hope is like a golden cord connecting you to heaven...Cling to hope, and My rays of Light will reach you through the darkness” (Jesus Calling, Sarah Young).

Beyond the shadows and the dark, the sun shines brightly on a new day and a new year. Perspective is everything.

I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.

– Romans 15:13

Deeply Rooted

Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is.

– Ephesians 3:17-18

On a recent camping trip to Mammoth, California, our family took a long hike into the mountains. Along the path we encounter monuments of the creation that sometimes leave one breathless and full of wonder. One such artifact was the huge remains of a tangled system of roots that had once been the foundation of a very large tree. As I observed the enormity of this root structure, I pondered the meaning as it relates to our spiritual foundation. I thought a lot about the importance of roots as the foundation of a tree as it equates to faith in Christ.

One of my favorite things about Summer is the lingering warm evenings and late sunsets. My family enjoys taking a leisurely walk around the neighborhood just before dusk. We have come to cherish our nature walks when we can marvel at the grace of God's creation through the eyes of our child. Our daughter skips merrily along the path, stopping every once in a while to stoop low and observe the movement of a bug on the ground.

On our tree lined street, many of the sycamore and magnolia trees hang low enough along the walk that our girl, a mere 40” tall, has to stand on tip-toe, reaching her hands high overhead to touch the leaves with her fingertips. Occasionally Daddy will lift her onto his shoulders to grab hold of a leaf as she gazes in amazement at the fine detail of every vein and stroke its velvety skin.

Then leaping down along the path, she delightfully lifts her hands in praise and sings, “Thank you Jesus for the sun, and the trees, and the shade!”

My favorite place in our house is seated right under the double windows in the front during the light of dawn. Where we live in the suburbs, tall sycamore trees line the streets, the fullness of their branches extending out and providing shade across the neighborhood. Last year city ordinance forced us to remove the tree out in front of our house, which had really become a beloved feature of our home. I had loved to sit in our large front windows on a breezy day and listen to leaves rustle and clap as if offering their adoration to God.

You will live in joy and peace. The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands! (Isaiah 55:11-12)

One of the joys of being a parent is viewing the world through a child's eyes of wonder. It is even more remarkable to witness the faith of a child. Jesus said that unless a person can become like a little child one could not enter the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 18:3). I learn more from my little girl about the love of the Father than I do from any book.

We make cherished memories on Saturday mornings, raking the large leaves in a pile and our girl jumping into it with childish abandonment. How I marvel at her free spirit and long for such freedom in my heart. How easily the cares of this life consume our affections and burden our hands from lifting in praise!

"Trees" by Lily

One of the best gifts my mother ever gave me was the gift of prayer, as we drove in the car on the way to school, while we sat on the couch at the end of the day, as she knelt over my bedside. Her example formed a foundation for me that has developed into a life of faith. I want to give my daughter the gift of God's love everyday.

My greatest desire in this life is to know God more and to impart the fullness of his love to my child. Yet as I watch her explore her world in wonder, I realize that the best way I can teach her the love of God is to live it. That I would plant my roots deeply in Christ, living love by example, through reading his word, taking time to pray, and serving others. The fruit of that will be a legacy of faith for my child. 

But blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their hope and confidence. They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. 

– Jeremiah 17:7

Path of Peace

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.
– 1 Corinthians 13:12 (NLT)

Groggy eyed I groped along the night stand for my phone -- alarm chiming in the start of another day. I flung back on the pillow, my mind attempting to sort through a tangled mess of worries about the day ahead. I hadn't gotten enough sleep. My little girl had been up a few times with bad dreams. During one waking she sleepily tried to relate her dream back to me – not any of it was making sense.

My head sank deeply into downy softness, never wanting to leave the comfort of my bed. “Lord, this is your day. Guide me through it and help me to follow you.” It has become my desperate assurance in coping with the chaos of life; I have come to learn that the best way to be armed for the day is to get grounded in God, sink deeply into his presence.

The blue light of dawn seeped into the room. I stumbled out of bed and fumbled to the kitchen to fetch my favorite mug and pour a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The morning has come to be my most coveted time of day, when I can hold that warm cup in my hand and sit down to read and pray. Pouring my coffee, I glanced at the familiar quote printed on the side of the cup.

My thoughts bumbled down a rabbit trail of distraction... Memories taking me to a time when my husband and I were still childless, wondering and waiting. It didn't make any sense at the time, why we could have gotten all the details right in our young lives but could not control the one thing that should come so easily. Infertility was a word we probably wouldn't have used at the time, but it is a word that haunts countless couples everyday. The one thing that should make the most sense doesn't make any sense at all.

Today, I'm sitting with this cup in my hand pondering in amazement how God took that which made no sense and turned it into wonder. Our little miracle is asleep in her bed in the next room.

Yet, some days I still feel like Alice in Wonderland, tumbling down a rabbit hole, my idealistic spirit carrying me on a chase after a little white rabbit who has aimlessly lost his precious Mary Ann and is in ever so much of a hurry to find her. And I keep on following after, down a trail of nonsense, hurried by I-don't-know-what and frazzled by that incessant feeling of being late!

Do you ever do this? Get caught up in the chase? Whether it be from sheer curiosity, ambition, or misguided desire, sometimes we can find our self being carried along a path and only later stop to think, “How did I get here?”

As a child I related to Alice. All the world around me felt like nonsense, the rules, the order of things, the choices of paths to follow to who-knows-where. It stirred within me great anxiety as I tried to make sense of the insensible.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6-7).

My mother used to pray this verse over me when I was feeling completely overwhelmed by a situation. The part that always stood out to me was that God's peace transcends – it is above and surpasses our understanding. Our limited knowledge is nothing compared to the peace to be found in God. Even that sounded so lofty to me, as if God was there hovering somewhere above the earth, detached from the human experience. How could a God like this bring peace? What did peace even look like?

I remember hearing somewhere about the “upside down kingdom” of God*. That kingdom where the poor are rich, the grieved have comfort, the meek inherit the earth, the hungry are full, the merciful receive mercy, the childlike see God, the peacemakers are called children of God, and this kingdom belongs to the persecuted (Matthew 5:3-12).

And at this current time in history, that makes very much more sense than anything the world tries to claim. When men, women, and children are losing their lives for the sake of the Kingdom of God, that which is utterly senseless takes on a whole different meaning for those who belong to the “upside down kingdom” of God. As apostle Paul says, “For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21)

Recall the scene from Through the Looking Glass when Alice finds herself face to face with the Red Queen:

“Where are you going? Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers.”

Alice: “I seem to have lost my way.”

Red Queen: “What do you mean – your way? All the ways around here belong to me.”

Jesus warned his disciples that ruler of this age, also called the prince of this world, would have no power over him; but Christ came to show God's love and to do the will of the Father (John 14:29-31). What was it that God the Father required? Now this is where it seems really upside down. Jesus came to give up his life. The thief comes to steal, to kill, and destroy, Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (John 10:10-11)

Alice eventually came to the end of her path. She plopped down on a rock and began to sob hopelessly that she may never find her way home. Thankfully although it may feel sometimes like we're living in a nonsensical world like Wonderland, we have a different hope, direct access to the promised Kingdom of God.

When it seems that the world has been utterly turned upside down...When suffering, loss, injustice, disease, and death clutter the world with confusion...When it feels some days that we have utterly lost our way...there is a Shepherd who pursues us. When nothing else seems to make any sense, this is one thing that makes complete sense. That the way through this life is to follow the One who guides our feet into the path of peace (John 1:79).

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” –Jesus (John 14:6)

*Donald B. Kraybill, The Upside-Down Kingdom

**Lewis Carrol, Alice in Wonderland: Through the Looking Glass

Joy Upsprings

 Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?-- Isaiah 43:18-19

New life sprang forth as certain as a sapling sprouts up from the ground. She grew within me strong with vitality, like a bulb that lies beneath the earth during the long months of germination.

Leaving the nest to cleave to the man with whom I pledged love for a lifetime, we were both filled with many hopes and expectations. Our union was blessed. We talked a lot about our dreams and the legacy that we wanted to establish in our home.

Only four years married, grief entered. Suddenly and tragically, the darling young brother of my groom had gone to the grave. Stepping forward in our grief, we began to foster dreams of new life. My husband and I bought our first home, adopted a dog, and planned to grow our family.

When all the furniture had been moved into our first home, the walls were filled with boxes of belongings brought together in our union. Things of remembrance, pictures that cement moments in time, memories of the yesterdays so newly past, leaving sensory impressions on our souls. Objects signifying vows, accomplishments, permanence. The walls filled with expectation.

Friends and family poured into our home to fill it with gifts and blessings. Prayers poured out that He would fill us with blessing upon blessing, for years with purpose and lives worthy of His glory.

Bulbs of calla lilies lined up in pots on our back patio, waiting to be planted in the garden, like the hopes aligned upon our hearts.

Lilies. They were pinned in the lapels of my groom and his gentlemen on our wedding day. Lilies pure white with peace. My groom's young brother wore one there upon his breast.

Then the flowers lined his processional in memorium. Lilies deep red like the blood that ran still in his veins. And like the blood that ran down from the Cross of Calvary. Pure red that cleanses like snow.

For nearly three years our hopes deferred. Ten weeks my womb carried hope without a heart beat. A dream implanted, not viable for life. Despair cast long shadows across the days.

We were weak and weary with grief. Our souls wore grief like a cloak, draped heavily over the shoulders. Our Savior wore it too, draped like dead weight upon his back, the sins of man. Suffering of the world worn upon those bleeding scars.

Together we had petitioned the Lord in prayer that he would breath life into in my womb. The anointing oil was upon our brows. Oil poured out and tears poured down as an offering.

The voice of our faithful Lover of the soul spoke in a word: Joy.

The oil of joy instead of mourning
A garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair
A planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

That spring we planted the bulbs in our garden and waited in hopeful expectation. Spring rains watered and faithful sun gave life. Then erupting from the soil faith and love upspring.

For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness and praise spring up...

-- Isaiah 61:11

In Medias Res

Where do I begin? They say in telling a story you begin at the beginning. As an English teacher I know that is not true. Some stories reach a defining moment for the character in the middle of the action and that is where the story begins.

In medias res.

I had put off writing this entry, because for the longest time I couldn't seem to gather my thoughts. Thoughts stacked up like playing cards--each card face with a picture of my heart, my experiences, my worries, my hopes--and every time I would attempt to pull out a card it disturbed the whole pile. My neat stack undone: cards mismatched, backward, upside down, mixed up, and thrown into a heap on the floor.

Looking down at my mess I would try to step over it to move on to something else, slipping on the cards under my feet. 

Lord, can you help me pick this up? Can you gather this beautiful mess?

Over the phone, Mom asks, "Do you still feel called to stay at home?" I had been on leave from teaching for nearly three years to be a stay-at-home momma with my girl. I was confident this is where I am supposed to be. Yet my words spill doubt, spew insecurity, and I can't pull them back in.

"I do... Although some days I ask myself what I'm doing here.'" My honesty shocks me and I regret saying it almost the instant it leaves my mouth.

I want to avoid the appearance of weakness. My pride is at the stake. My beloved momma has always represented wise counsel. She is the woman who has guided me from childhood into womanhood. I read into it, erroneously thinking that I could disappoint her. Have I have made a mistake leaving my career as a teacher after seven years? I reel in defense.

In my quiet place, I blast my fears to God. Satan had visited Eve in the Garden when she was alone, but God was there, his presence had not abandoned her. The serpent tempted her with lurking desire: God is withholding something from you. Take control. Make your own choice. Eve doubted God's goodness.

I doubt: did God really say...?

My question of purpose came at a moment when the soil was dry and cracked under my feet. So many sleepless nights and weary toddler days. It came at a time when my questions about tomorrow were left unanswered. The hard days can overwhelm the spirit. Like so many cloudy days piled one on top of the other, the darkness creeps in with isolation.

Worries tumbled about inside my head like so many weeds upon the dusty ground.  
What am I really doing here? Where do I find my worth? Where do I place my security? What is my purpose?

Doubt questions. Faith is confident hope.
What the enemy uses for harm the Lord is faithful to use for good.
In the waiting, new life forms.
To wait is to be pregnant with hope.
Waiting produces perseverance, character, and hope.
And true hope does not disappoint (see Romans 8:28; 5:3-5).

For many years I wore the self-sacrificing burden of higher education and service as an educator like a martyr's crown. But this mom-life? This kid-stuff? No matter how knock-down-trag-out-dog-tired I feel--this life is a gift. Being a stay at home mommy is a luxury in grace. This kind of sacrifice feels more like redemption than martyrdom. Dying to self means rising to life.

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. 
He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. 
He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along (Psalm 40:1-2).

For the first time in my life I am filled with joy in exuberance. Motherhood is a whip-lash roller coaster of elation and exhaustion. Even the darkest days of isolation beckon me to call out to the Lord for His strength, and in the midst of the fog, he makes his presence known. In his presence there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11). He has taught me joy and fulfillment in child rearing that I could not have anticipated.

And so I continue in the telling of a redemption story... From death to new life. Waiting in season and waking to a harvest.  

He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord.
--Psalm 40:1-3