Gaze

The Garden, the Gaze, and the Glory

There’s a moment in Genesis that forever changed the story of humanity. A moment we often rush past in search of consequences—but what if we paused? What if we looked again?

I’ve become convinced that nakedness wasn’t the real sin the day Eve ate from the tree. It wasn’t her exposed body that broke heaven’s heart—it was her disobedience. The awareness of her nakedness came after the fall (Genesis 3:7), signaling that something deeper had shifted. Her spirit had departed from divine alignment, and for the first time, shame entered the scene.

I used to question, “Why would God create us uncovered?” Why would He leave us bare if we were only to be clothed in guilt?

But here’s the truth: God never had a problem with our rawness. It was our sin that distorted the view. He called everything He made “very good” (Genesis 1:31). Our skin wasn’t scandalous; our selfishness was. The true fall was not into nudity—but into self-will. The craving to become like God (Genesis 3:5), to serve ourselves, to take what was never ours to own.

The real sin… was selfishness.

And today, we still wrestle with this. We often look at what’s beautiful and immediately ask, “What can this do for me?” Instead of seeing the sacred, we see the sensual. We reduce people, moments, and even nature to tools for our pleasure.

But can you see the beauty of creation without trying to consume it?

Can you admire a body without wanting to possess it?

Can you honor a gift without trying to manipulate it?

What started as a normal day in the garden turned into a life-altering experience—not just for Eve, but for every generation after. And yet, God still showed up. Even in the fall, He clothed them (Genesis 3:21). He didn’t abandon them—He covered them in grace.

Sight, real sight, is not simply the function of your eyes.

It is the discernment of your spirit.

It is the ability to see past your flesh and recognize what is godly.

Remember, it was Eve who ran for cover—God never told her to hide. After disobeying, she became aware of her nakedness and responded with shame. But when God found them, He didn’t begin with judgment—He began with a question: “Who told you that you were naked?” (Genesis 3:11, NIV).

This wasn’t just about clothing—it was about identity. The real issue wasn’t their physical state, but the shame and fear that entered their hearts. The lie was the belief that they now had to hide from the very One who created them. God never shamed them for their nakedness; they simply no longer saw themselves through His eyes.

Even in our brokenness, God asks the same question today—not to condemn, but to call us out of hiding and back into truth.

So today I ask you: Are you looking through the lens of lust, or through the eyes of the Lord?

Let’s return to the garden—not to live in regret, but to recover reverence.

Let’s reclaim the gaze that sees the glory—not the guilt.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” — Matthew 5:8