As strange as this may sound, I think about the Garden of Eden actually quite a lot. For a season, Eden was home to the first man and woman ever. I’ve never seen Eden, but from what I understand, it was absolutely lovely. All living organisms within the Garden harmoniously dwelled with the ecosystem and with each other. Depression wasn’t a thing, nor were envy and crime. Bees maybe didn’t sting, sunburns maybe didn’t hurt, and storms maybe didn’t threaten. That’s the way I picture it.
But there was that one tree, and that one tempter. There was that one day when Adam and Eve took an irreversible step. That was the day they had to depart from Eden and never return.
I think that that day can be looked at in a couple of different lights. With one eye open and the other eye closed, it can be seen through a dimly-colored shade of pity. But with the second eye open and the first eye closed, it can be seen through bright and blissful golds and silvers.
Some may wonder how a permanent deportation from such a place could possibly be viewed as a good thing. That Garden’s every square inch was exquisite, while current-day Earth is far from perfection. Even I have had the secret desire to momentarily escape reality, and venture backwards through time for an Eden excursion.
Both consciously and subconsciously, a number of people might wish that life these days could be a lot more like the way life was in Eden, in the sense that they wish for their cares to evaporate into thin air. I do know that our first parents’ departure from their sparkling first home unstoppably opened the doors to all manners of hardship. But it also opened additional doors to understanding the differences between wrong and right, pain and joy, and enemies and friends.
Friends. Family. People I love. Because of the departure from Eden, I and the people I cherish became possible. My opportunity to live on a planet that houses opposing elements, ideas, and powers—which thus enables me to set apart my people as my favorite treasures and call them my crowning jewels in life—became possible. My philosophy about favorites is that if you’ve got a favorite something or someone, it means there are other somethings and someones that aren’t your favorites, and perhaps denotes that there are other somethings and someones that are even the banes of your existence.
Would there even be “banes of existence” had the departure from Eden not happened? Say you were granted the chance of living in an Eden society, with all its carefreeness and lack of opposition in every way, shape, and form. Would you value your favorite people and your most authentically joyful moments like you do in real life? Do you think you would become desensitized to the essence of rightness and goodness, if the things opposite to rightness and goodness were no more?
In the Book of Mormon, in 2 Nephi, chapter 2, verse 25, it states, “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.” This sentence of scripture summarizes so clearly what I’ve been trying to say over the last several paragraphs. I would like to add just one concluding thought to that scriptural thought:
Although mankind’s home is no longer Eden, mankind’s home is not devoid of all of Eden’s beauties. Earth is still beautiful; in fact, it’s way, way, way beautiful. It’s got an enormous history book that’s jam-packed with countless righteous occurrences, both past and present. It’s still glorious, and it’s filled to the brim with the most wonderful people, many of whom we are benevolently blessed by a loving Heavenly Father to call our favorite treasures and crowning jewels.
(The photo below was taken a few years ago. It's of me and a few of my favorite friends, enjoying a gorgeous GARDEN of tulips!)
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