Eden. Paradise. Perfection. Those are the thoughts that come to mind when I hear the word Eden. And when I heard rumors that we would be getting our own rooms this month, I have to be honest, my expectations soared to somewhere resembling a Utopian paradise. The reality is something much different though.
In some ways, this has been one of the more demanding months of the Race. We have had to work through a lot as a team regarding our expectations for each other and for this ministry. We are in a facility that is home to approximately 110 residents, most of whom face varying degrees of mental disabilities. They have a staff of about 7 people, one of which is a nurse who comes in overnight. As you can imagine, that leaves a lot to be desired in the care they can provide for these residents. And at times, that is a really frustrating reality to confront.
What is even more frustrating, however, is the fact that this is the best most of these people could ever hope to receive. As a whole, society has written them as invaluable and unworthy. Yet, this place is called Eden.
Why?
Because Eden is what we lost, and it is what we are trying to get back to. Eden is God’s perfect creation just as he intended it. It is where he walked with the man and the woman in cool of the day.
So what does that have to do with a mental health facility in the middle of South Africa?
Everything!
It has everything to do with restoring the world to the way God originally intended. This place and the hearts of the people who run it are focused on offering people that have been ignored and undervalued the dignity and worth that should come with being created in the image of God.
So Eden may not look like Paradise. More likely it looks like cleaning up after grown adults who aren’t able to address their own needs. But isn’t that what God’s whole salvation project has been about?
Adam and Eve were created in perfection. They were grown adults. And yet they hid like little children when they heard God looking for them. They were afraid, and they didn’t know how to fix their situation. And the reality is that they couldn’t fix their situation.
My teammate Stephanie has compared the residents here to children in adult bodies. Physically, they look like they should be able to take care of themselves, but they can’t.
But neither can we. We can’t fix the state we’re in. The problem comes when we keep trying to do it on our own. Earlier today, a man fell and hit his head. He was bleeding badly, but he was insistent about getting up and walking around. He didn’t want us to try to take care of him, but that’s what was necessary for him to be healed.
Eden isn’t about the paradise we lost or even the perfection we’re still trying to achieve. It’s about a God who comes down, finds us in the mess we’ve gotten ourselves in, and lovingly cleans it up.
That’s a lot of what this month has looked like so far, and honestly, I’m grateful. I’m so glad I have had the chance to see what it looks like to care for people who can’t do it themselves. And I’m even more thankful that I’ve had the opportunity to see that I’m in the same boat with them.
Yes, I can take care of my physical needs and express myself clearly. But I can’t help myself in the most basic and the most important way that I need help.
That’s a humbling truth to face. But that’s just what it is, the truth. The good news is that I don’t have to do it on my own. Just like the people here at Eden, I have someone who was willing to pour his life out for me to restore the dignity and worth that he intended when he created me in his image.
And so as I get ready to wrap up the month and my time here at Eden, I’m looking at paradise in a new way. It’s not just about perfection. It’s about love that isn’t afraid of imperfection. That’s what I’ve seen this month, and that’s what I want to carry with me for the rest of the Race and the rest of my life.
