Trees, Silly

Had a conversation with a close friend concerning the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and how the rule not to eat of the tree caused us to enter into the reign of sin—The idea was that without rules, we cannot sin. (Rom. 5:13)

Of course, this paradox is silly. Without the choice to obey, we can't love, either—which is the entire purpose of our creation.

The fall: They said, "I want to be equal with You. I don't trust you. I don't trust your motives. I don't believe you are good or kind. I don't believe you can lead me as well as I can lead me. I don't want to depend on you. I need to work out a better deal for myself. I won't obey you. I don't love you."

This is death. The choice at the tree of the knowledge of good and evil gave expression to what was already in their hearts. It wasn't a mean God, tempting and making extraneous rules for a couple of people who deserved better.

The tree provided opportunity to choose obedience instead of self; to choose to love God. If we love Him, we obey Him.

We were created to love Him. We cannot be satisfied until we enter into that great exchange of love—and we cannot love without denying ourselves—we can't love Him without the choice.

The rule concerning the tree was a gift, a beautiful opportunity; it was free will, it was the choice.

Shears and Gardens

In this season, the Lord has me at the banqueting table. He said that to me, and I thought of that silly little ditty, "He brought me to His banqueting table and His banner over me is love." It's one of the things in Song of Songs that I skip over, if I ever, in fact, make myself read Song of Songs.

But that's where He's brought me. One night at the student awakening, He showed me this picture of my heart, and my hands were all in it, trying to shape it up or mold it on my own. But the only thing He's asked me to do is lay my hands down.

Our hearts are gardens for the Lord, and if we go in there and blindly cut at things with the shears, we'll only end up hurting ourselves.

It's a hard thing to know deep down that we actually please Him, right now, before we're good enough, and that we don't have to work it up on our own. Because, logically, why? He sees us while we are still in our darkest places, sees what we could be through His Son, and loves us fully, wanting us and drawing us.

So right now I'm figuring out what this banqueting table thing is supposed to be.