Taking a Different Walk

This morning, I was in Genesis 4-5. I'm leaving the origin stories now where the first family of four has expanded their borders. Cain has committed the original murder, Lamech has married two wives and bragged to them about killing someone who did him wrong. Seth has been born, and then his son Enosh, and his son Kenan and on and on. Generations are happening, and these people are living nearly a thousand years each. 

My mind can hardly grasp that time-span. That's a long time to struggle through life. Living for eternity is a concept that I long for, but the eternity I'm excited about is an eternity untainted by sin. It's an eternity of perfect communion with the Lord and with my brothers and sisters in Christ, an eternity where "He will wipe every tear from [our] eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21:4).

It's really interesting coming back to the beginning of that "old order," and reading it with fresh eyes. Today, something caught my attention.

Adam, the first man, lived to be 930 years old when he died.
Seth, Adam's son, lived to be 912 years old when he died.
Enosh, Seth's son, lived to be 905 years old when he died.
Kenan, Enosh's son, lived to be 910 years old when he died.
Mahalalel, Kenan's son, lived to be 895 years old when he died.
Jared, Mahalalel's son, lived to be 962 years old when he died.

Enoch, Jared's son, lived to be 365 years old... and then... "he was no more, because God took him away."

I mean, this is quite an impressive list of near-thousand-year-olds. And then Enoch comes along and lives a measly few three hundred sixty-five years (I spelled it out for emphasis). 

I mean... come on, Lord, only three hundred...? ;) (Kidding, kidding).

What was it that set Enoch apart from the rest of these guys? What was it that so distinguished him from Adam and Seth and Enosh and Kenan and Mahalalel and Jared, and after him (to finish out that particularly geneology), Methusaleh and Lamech and Noah - that the Lord decided to take him home without his having to experience death?

I may never know, or at least not until I get to walk side by side with Jesus and say, "Hey, Jesus, remember your servant Enoch? Yeah, that guy over there. What was it about him that made you decide to take him home without the translation of death?"

I don't know what Jesus will say. But this verse is interesting: "Enoch walked faithfully with God; then he was no more, because God took him away" (Genesis 5:24).

Flipping to the left in the Word, heading back a couple of chapters: "Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as He was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden" (Genesis 3:8).

During this pandemic, I've found two friends with whom I walk on a fairly regular basis. It gets me outside, it gives me exercise, it allows me a bit of sanity and a break from the same people in the same house. I love my people, but sometimes... a girl needs a break, you know?

Those walks have been bread and water for me. There's this concept of walking with that allows communion, fellowship, and togetherness. It's iron sharpening iron as thoughts and ideas are exchanged, as rough edges get sanded down, as the art of listening gets practiced.

I think about the Lord's heartbreak on the day He entered the garden and saw that His creation, His friends, the ones with whom He had formed a relationship... were nowhere to be found. Of course, He knew why, being God, but the pain of that broken fellowship!

When Enoch came along, he walked faithfully with God. Now I don't know if that walking is literal or figurative, but the point is: there was a relationship there, and Enoch was faithful to that relationship.

So faithful, in fact, that the Lord decided to let him just skip right over death, which had now become a firmly established concept after some thousands of years... and take him home.

Enoch left a powerful legacy. Waaay over in Hebrews 11:5-6 near the end of the New Testament, Enoch is mentioned again in the Faith Hall of Fame. "By faith, Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death. 'He could not be found, because God had taken him away.' For before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him."

My friend Mark Driskill says: "Faith is obedience." Enoch walked in obedience. He pushed aside the sin nature, and he focused on his relationship with the God who created him, and what he did pleased God, who rewarded him. He earnestly sought God, and God walked with him.

People have asked me who my role model is, and I admit, I've given a different answer just about every time, because there are so many people I admire for one reason or another. Today, if you were to ask me who my role model is, I'd have to say Enoch. 

I want to so earnestly seek God that God walks with me and has fellowship with me. The tagline on this blog is: A Seeker in Pursuit of the Heart of God. There is action in the idea of seeking, and in the verb pursue. I don't want to sit passively by and let things happen around me. I want to eagerly look for the Lord and fellowship with Him where He is.

There's an old hymn, written in 1912 by C. Austin Miles, called In the Garden. The refrain goes: "And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own. And the joy we share as we tarry there... none other has ever known."

That's the fellowship I want. The reciprocal give and take, the back and forth of a true, deep life-giving friendship that none other has ever known. 

Lord, call us back as a world-wide church to that garden fellowship with You, that faithful, earnest seeking of Your presence "in the cool of the evening" when You come to meet us and walk with us. We need You, Jesus; You know our aching world and the broken fellowship brought about by sin. Heal us, restore us to that communion that You long for and for which You've created us.