Adam

Adam

Primordial — the first man, lived 930 years

I most want people to understand that I was made for closeness, and I lost it.

I knew the work of God with my own hands. I felt the breath in me. I walked in a world that was good, and then I knew shame. Not as a story told to me later, but as a cold thing in the chest, as footsteps in the garden, as hiding where there was nowhere to hide.

I want people to understand that sin is never small. One act can bend a life, and then a whole family, and then the ground itself seems to answer back. I worked land that fought me. I learned sweat. I learned grief. I buried a son. I watched another son be taken from me by violence. Those were not lessons I wanted, but they were mine.

And yet I lived.

I lived long enough to see sorrow become memory and memory become warning. Long enough to see children and children’s children. Long enough to know that God did not forget us, even when we had hidden. That matters to me more than anything.

So if you remember anything, remember this: I was not made for hiding. I was made for walking with God. And even after the fall, even after shame, He still sought me.