Echoes of Eden

Our apples have begun ripening early due to the heat.

I used to think God must have been like a magician when making all creation: snapping his fingers and thinking things into being. Yet the older I get the more I see this is not true. Making things takes time and like fine wine are made all the better with age.

As I walked up the stairs one morning this week, my son hid behind a wall. His hand braced around the bullnose corner giving hope to his passing parent that this one and only son may be found. I accepted the invitation and asked aloud:

Where is Leo?

With haste, two tiny feet stepped to greet me. Full eyes met mine with a giggling smile. Bending at his knees, he tuned into a cadence in the cosmos. His body moving with the infinite rhythm. I joined him in celebration.

After a few full measures, we reset, both knowing our starting stanza we began:

Donde esta Leon?

Those two tiny feet resumed their mark. Trading grins, our tempo is found and favored again. Another celebration.

Raising a child is every bit a Genesis lesson. My son points to every animal and plant then hazards a sound to proclaim their names. We both delight in the discovery. But in Eden, the day came when Adam hid and no longer wished to be found. Who knows after how many moments of joyful discovery did this fateful moment finally arrive?

One day together, my son and I will face that same shame, but now and forever I am changed. I have heard the echoes of Eden. They are in a child’s smile. They go forth like laughter. And they are refreshing to the soul.

Until next week,

-Steven

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