What dual character he had—what contrast of thrill and pang, of blood and brain, of desert and civilization, of physical and spiritual, of nature and–”

Above all, I was a fighting man. . . it was deeply ingrained in my being, a part of me. Hurt, I would fight; dying, I would still try to fight.”
                    –Louis L’Amour  (The Sackett Brand)

      “Fight the worthwhile battle of the faith, keep your grip on that life eternal to which you have been called, and to which you boldly professed your loyalty before many witnesses.”

Thank you for allowing me to continue living my life, so I may reflect on my error.”
                        –Dan Arnold  (Alta Vista)

       “Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love.”
                         –Ephesians 1:4 (NASB)
————————————-
I was reading an article by George Matheson, which I shared some of the other day.  He pointed out a verse that I had read before, and pondered slightly, but this time I spent some time contemplating it.  The verse is found in Genesis 4:26.

           “To Seth, to him also a son was born; and he called his name Enosh. Then men began to call upon the name of the Lord.”  (NASB)
          “To Seth, also, a son was born, whom he named Enosh (mortal man, mankind).  At that [same] time men began to call on the name of the Lord [in worship through prayer, praise, and thanksgiving].” (Amplified)

Enosh (or Enos in KJV) is Adam’s grandson, the third generation.  The word “then” caught my attention.  Why not before?  What happened to Seth’s generation?  I am sure the Garden of Eden was still around, did Seth become disgusted with his parents that they had been thrown out?  Most likely Cain had left the scene by this time, and we know that Adam and Eve had other children, so why this verse after the birth of Enosh?
       George Matheson asks these questions:  “Why did prayer begin then?”  Why did it not begin in Paradise?  Was not God nearer to unfallen than to fallen man?  Was not Eden flooded with the Divine presence?”  He then gives a resounding “Yes!”  There was no need or place for prayer in the Garden.  Matheson gives the following analogy:

               “You cannot see the stars except by night.  You can see more gorgeous things by day, but not these special things called stars.  Even so with the day and night of the soul.  Eden was the day.  It was the fullness of God, the enjoyment of God, the beatific vision of the eye.  But for that very reason there was no sense of need, no prayer.  Prayer could only come with the night, with the need.  It is incompatible with full fruition.  It needs the shadow to make its starlight, the silence to make its music, the want to make its cry.”

       In Eden Adam and Eve walked with God; they were sinless so they could see Him face-to-face.  Can you imagine the delight that was theirs?  Perhaps more, we can imagine the depression that was theirs when they lost that special right to walk with the Father.  But think a little more.  No sin, no need for prayer.  No sin, no need for grace.  No sin, the dependence upon the heavenly Father is lacking.  No sin, the need for mercy would not be there.  No, the majesty of God had another plan.  It is beyond our understanding, but I will mention one more thing in regard to leaving Eden, the curse of sin, man could not know the wondrous love of God.  I will also add this, with Eden there would be no need for heaven.  Our Savior would not have the need to build us a place to live with Him.  Today, contemplate the verse above and what Matheson has said.

               “There is a compensation for my night.  I have been driven out from Eden into the land of swamps and marshes.  But in the land of swamps and marshes I have found something I could not meet in Eden–the gate of prayer.  Eden had no gate, because it had no need for an opening.  It was all open together.  There were no prisons to escape from, no fetters from which to be free.  But the land of the stranger has given me the gate, because it has given me the wall.  It has made me less near to Thee.  It has put a barrier between us.  It has caused me to miss Thee, to feel the want of Thee, to cry for Thee.  My Christ has gone into a far country, and I stretch my hands to Him.  Yet there is a beauty in the stretching of the hands, the calling upon Thy name–His name.  It is only the beauty of starlight; yet starlight has a glory that belongs not to the day.  It is something to see Thee when Thou art passing by; but to cry for Thee when Thou art past has a music all its own.  It is love in absence, love in Paradise lost.  It is the refusal of my soul to be weaned from Thee by distance or disaster…  I thank Thee that the loss of Eden has brought the hour of prayer.”

       Yes, the sin in the Garden of Eden brought havoc to the earth in the form of sin.  But now, we can dimly see the plan of God in action–the plan of sacrifice, of redemption.  We can go to another garden, the “Garden of Prayer.”  We can reach out and grasp the hem of His garment.  He is still there, no not the way He was with Adam in Eden, but even in a more wonderful way.

               “I come to the GARDEN alone,
               While the dew is still on the roses,
               And the voice I hear,
               Falling on my ear,
               The Son of God discloses.

               And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
               And He tells me I am His own;
               And the joy we share as we tarry there,
               None other has ever known.”
                       –C. Austin Miles (caps mine)

But there are fools, and then there are folk that are just plain stupid.”