In reading “The Tales of the Pointless People” by Dan Erlander, we hear of God’s original vision of an Eden where people romp and frolic having fun together until the “Snake” comes along and tells them to keep points (score). When I read that God said, “Let us make human beings in our image…,” one of the first things I think of is that God created us to be creative.
So what would Eden be like if we were still there, not keeping points but simply enjoying being who we are meant to be, having fun? What would I want to be doing there?
As I imagine being in Eden, in that spectacular, beautiful and perfect garden, I want to begin to identify the colorful birds, butterflies and plants. Perhaps I will draw or paint them, and label them in some way, so I can remember them better. I will find berries of various colors, a sharp twig from a tree, and a large dried leaf upon which to write.
(If this is Eden, will twigs fall from the trees? Will leaves drop from their stems? Am I harming the berries to pick them for ink juice?) (Will drawing and labeling the birds and flowers lead to keeping score of how many I have identified?)
As I work on my drawings, I invent and create words for labels. Somewhere within me there wells up an idea of language. I begin to write stories. I search for ways to create larger leaves upon which to write.
(I seem to be making a mess as I creatively work, dropping unneeded parts of leave and twigs, tossing away the squeezed berry bits, and dripping sticky juice, which causes flies to gather round. Who will clean up this mess?) What mess? Isn’t this paradise?
When I feel the need for a change of activity, I look around and see several dear friends. We walk to a sweetly secluded alcove in the garden, where we sit and talk about our ideas and what fun we are having in our various creative ways. We decide to stroll over the hill to see what’s on the other side. Along the way, God joins us in our walk, and commends us for our creativity.
Later, I feel myself getting drowsy, and I find a soft spot for some sleep. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think to myself that if this is really Paradise, I would want a book to read. I hope someone invents books soon. Humming softly to myself in a tune which Beethoven will recognize, I fall asleep.
Photo of my garden in March