Forgive me, my wife… my bride.

Forgive me for not recognizing my place because of my pride.

You confessed your sin that you were deceived, but I hid mine in my bosom.

I left my first love. Wisdom says she loves those who love her.

She would have led us on the path of life, but without her, death has come.

With this death, separation also has entered our environment.

The veil has fallen between our God and us, between you and me, and between the spirit and the soul.

God, being responsible for our survival, always provides everything we need.

He said it’s not good for man to be alone so He took us, one man created in His image, and made two and told us to become one.

One egg times one seed becomes one… one nurtured in your womb, until the appointed time and then you will give back one.

One that will take its place in a quiver… an arrow to be aimed and shot to extend our boundaries.

You will give one that will feed a nation during a drought, one that will become a deliverer of a nation, one that will become a king of a nation and finally, One to become all of these and so much more!

Forgive me, my wife… my bride.

Forgive me for not understanding the other dimensions of us becoming one.

I am to come out of my aloneness. Aloneness is silence.

I am to be one who speaks and declares into places prepared for seed.

To give you seeds in the form of words to connect and be received by you.

Seeds in the form of my hopes, my dreams, my desires and even my fears and weaknesses.

I will trust you to nurture and bring life to my hopes, my dreams, my desires and my fears and weaknesses!

You will make them have purpose and become greater than I could have in my aloneness, in my silence.

I have seen those women with barren wombs.

They cry out to God in agony with such desire for their wombs to give birth.

They are perceived as drunk, even in their prayers.

I try to understand the pain of having a barren womb.

When I work the ground and after I plant the seed, I wait for the rain to bring life to the seed.

Day after day… week after week and then painfully months go by without rain.

There is nothing I can do. It is out of my hands… my control.

I watch as the ground becomes hard… too hard, even to receive rain.

Cracks develop and grow bigger with each passing day.

The grass turns yellow and the leaves wither and fall to the ground.

Yes, I try hard to understand the agony.

With those with a barren womb, each month they are reminded of their barrenness.

Their months turn into years until the day comes when they no longer have the ability to receive seed.

Forgive me, my wife…my bride.

Forgive me for not taking responsibility for your actions.

Forgive me for blaming you… blaming you over and over again.

I knew what God said and yet… in silence, I watched you eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Created in the image of God, I lifted myself up to be equal with God and did not humble myself and we died after I ate, out of disobedience, at the tree.

Because I ate when I should not have, I was told the ground would produce thorns.

I was told that by the sweat of my brow I would eat my food.

However, this came as no surprise to God because from the foundation of the world there was one slain… the Last Adam!

When He was tempted, he did not eat and even became obedient in two more areas of temptation.

He, being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a tree.

After He died for His bride, God exalted Him to the highest place.

He took responsibility for her actions and put those actions on Himself.

He never blamed her… He just loves and forgives her over and over.

In a garden, He sweated from His brow redemptive blood that brings me rest in my thought life.

In the purpose of the Last Adam, the death process produced a crown of thorns for His head where that same redemptive blood was shed.

Today, doubt and unbelief will not keep me from entering the garden… the rest, again.

I will let the angel with the flaming sword do as God’s will says.

The flames will serve their purpose and the sword its purpose.

I will love and follow wisdom on the path that leads to the Tree of Life.