Beyond the Garden Gate

Consequently, through a series of self-inflicted and miserable events, we walked right out of the garden and into the desert and we wonder why we're so thirsty all the time and in need of refreshing. The truth is, there is nothing out here to sustain us. The bigger truth is that we're supposed to be the ones delivering the only hope of survival in a dry and thirsty land.

We're not supposed to be parched. We're supposed to be overflowing. Stop digging around in dry river beds and begging from scavengers, and get back to the garden.

The garden represents communion with God. It's where Adam walked with God in the cool of the day. It's where Jesus spoke with Him before his arrest and crucifixion. Adam, however, closed the gate to the garden, blocking access to and communion with God. But in contrast through his obedience, Jesus is the gate to the garden. (John 14:6)

Jesus then becomes our only hope for communion with the Father. It is only through Him that we are reconciled and restored to the right standing relationship that Adam experienced with Him before the fall.

Here's the deal, though. Now there's work to be done. There is now an entire world of people wandering out in the desert, because the fallen Adam and Eve birthed them there. God wants them back, too. You want a whole new perspective on the value of a tall, cool glass of water? Go find a millionaire in the desert who hasn't seen water for days and see what kind of check he'd be willing to write.

It's not enough to go visit the garden when you need some refreshing or to hang out and ignore the work at hand. You see, we were commissioned to go, meaning, "I love you, but you can't stay here and ignore the ones still out there dying in the desert." What do we have to offer them if we won't carry some water to them? If we lack the capacity for what they need, how can we save them? Some of us have grown way too comfortable inhabiting the edges of the garden, only calling out to those venturing close enough to the peripheral that we can reach them without starving ourselves. On the other hand, though, there are those that Jesus is referring to in John 7. (vs 37-38) They have increased their capacity to be filled and they travel deep into the darkness of the desert with something that both sustains them and that they can offer the lost. When you offer water to a dying man in the desert, I promise you that once he is able, he will follow you back to the source. You won't have to convince him. So, don't you dare go out there and try to describe the water of life when you should have taken it with you. You have to take something that can heal them and bring restoration to reverse the effects of the dehydration before they could ever hope to follow you back to the garden. Jesus says, "Come and be filled."

Let your presence bring comfort,
Let your words breathe hope,
Let your hands show compassion,
But let the Holy Spirit flow through you and bring revival and restoration.

Without the Holy Spirit, all you can do is be there with them as they die, if you manage to reach them at all.

As a believer, the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23) are the outward representation of your internal confession. They are the fruit of the vine that is firmly rooted in the fertile soil of your identity in Christ Jesus. They are the proclaimation of your priesthood, the declaration of righteousness. Without them, it should be no surprise that your identity will be mistaken. Try as you may, they cannot be fabricated with your good intention. They are not the cause of good things. They are the effects of the greatest thing ever given to mankind. So let us stop covering ourselves with the illusions of worldly grandeur and instead, let us be filled with the Holy Spirit, let Him clothe us in the splendid colors of righteousness, and let our garments be called Praise.