Among the Trees

Among the Trees

“Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” (Genesis 3:8)

It is one of the saddest sentences in the Bible. They heard the Lord God coming and they hid.

Why hide? God was not a stranger. He wasn’t their enemy.

This was the One who had stooped in the dirt and lovingly formed them from the dust. Not as a distant architect, but as a caring craftsman. And then God himself had breathed into their lungs the breath of life.

This was the Great Provider who had planted a garden with every tree that was pleasing to the eye and good for food. Can you imagine the variety? Apple, peach, pear, fig, orange, plum, nectarine, cherry, apricot, lemon, lime, avocado, mango, pomegranate, olive… and those are just trees we have today. What might fruit have tasted like in the garden before sin brought rot and decay to defile creation? “It’s all for you!”, God had said.

And beyond the Provision — there was Presence.

God walked with them in the cool of the day. The sound of the Lord God moving through the garden was familiar, pleasing and welcome.

Like children welcoming their Father home after a long day of work, God came down. No hesitancy, no instinct to withdraw. Just sheer delight. His approach meant conversation, nearness, joy. The Creator enjoying His creation. A Father sharing space with His children.

Try to imagine what that must have felt like — to stand fully known and completely unashamed. To hear God’s voice without flinching or an inkling of self-doubt. To walk beside Him without calculating whether what you were doing or what you were thinking was in some way not enough.

There was no gap between them. Only goodness.

And then, on this day, they heard Him again. And for the first time, they stepped back.

And hid.

What changed?

Not God… but their view of God.

One of the most devastating effects of sin is not behavioral — it’s perceptual. Sin distorts our perspective. It twists our mind and corrupts our understanding of who God is.

Moments earlier, they had believed Satan’s lie: that God was holding back on them, that He could not be fully trusted, that obedience meant missing out on some hidden delight. And once that suspicion took root, everything shifted. It became their new default setting. The One who fashioned them, they now feared. So, they hid among the trees.

If we are honest, that instinct feels familiar, even as believers. When we fail, our reflex is to withdraw. We head for the trees. We imagine God is angry or upset. The fall didn’t just fracture the world — it fractured our perception.

If sin’s first work was to twist our understanding of God, then the restoring power of the gospel must begin there as well. The cross does more than reconcile us to God; it restores clarity in how we see Him.

And nowhere do we see that corrective more clearly than in Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:17–19.

He prays that every believer:

“… may have power… to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge.”

Paul understood something profound. Ever since Eden, the human heart has been prone to misread God — to suspect that He is withholding, distant, or less than fully good. So Paul prays that believers would not merely affirm God’s love as doctrine, but truly grasp it — to comprehend, experience, and be rooted in the reality that in Christ, God has held nothing back.

At the cross, the ancient lie is finally exposed. God is not withholding. He is not distant. He gives Himself. The gospel does more than forgive your sin; it retrains your reflex. The flesh says, “Hide.” The Spirit  says, “Come.”

So don’t head for the trees. Not when you fail. Not when you feel ashamed. Not when your inner voice whispers that God must be disappointed. Step toward Him. The Father who once walked in the garden now invites you to approach with confidence because of Christ. The love Paul prayed we would grasp is not theoretical — it’s personal and present.

Because the truest thing about you is not your weakness or wandering. It’s that you are loved by God in Christ.

(This insight surfaced in our Wednesday prayer group last week. Thanks Cliff & prayer team for the inspiration)

2 thoughts on “Among the Trees

  1. Amen!
    Reminds me of lines from Michael Card’s song, Chorus of Faith:
    “We do not sing that we might be more blessed
    He loves us with passion, without regret
    He cannot love more and will not love less.”

    So thankful for a God Who always loves His children!

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