A Call to the Daughters of Eden—and the Men Who Forgot They Were Gardeners
By Marty
Let’s talk about the apple.
Yes, that apple—the one in the garden, the one with the whisper, the one that wasn’t just a bite
but a betrayal. Everyone remembers Eve taking the fruit.
But not everyone asks:
Where was Adam?
He was there.
He wasn’t off hunting, building a hut, or naming flamingos.
He stood by. Silent. Watching.
The serpent spoke, and Adam said… nothing.
🌿 To the Women:
We are still being tempted.
Not always by fruit—but by influence, independence, and identity that forgets its source.
We are told to grasp, to take, to define ourselves apart from God.
But my call to you, my sisters in Christ, is this:
Don’t reach for what God didn’t hand you.
Don’t take what looks good but kills slowly.
Don’t trade divine design for a counterfeit crown.
Be the woman who stands with Christ, not the one who negotiates with snakes.
🛑 To the Men:
You were made for the garden.
Not just to enjoy it—but to guard it.
Eve was deceived.
But Adam abdicated.
He didn’t protect.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t fight.
And today, too many of our men are still silent in the garden:
Watching their wives carry spiritual loads alone
Letting their kids be discipled by screens and celebrities
Failing to cultivate their own souls with prayer and repentance
The serpent hasn’t stopped speaking—
But neither has God.
“Where are you?”
That’s what God asked Adam.
Not Eve.
And it’s still the question echoing in every marriage, home, and heart.
✝️ Scripture:
“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.”
— Genesis 2:15
“Keep it” in Hebrew is shamar — to guard, to protect, to preserve.
Not to spectate.
Not to shift blame.
Not to watch your bride fall.
🔥 Final Challenge:
To the women:
Be warriors in prayer, not just wanderers in desire.
Call each other up, not just out.
Don’t be fooled by fruit.
To the men:
Be the gardener again.
Pick up the shovel.
Get on your knees.
And guard the souls entrusted to you like they’re planted in Eden—because they are.
Your garden needs you.
Your silence speaks.
Let it now say: “Here I am, Lord.”
