REFLECTIONS - The Story Behind The Story

“Known to God from eternity are all His works.”
— Acts 15:18

For many years, one of the things that quietly unsettled me about Scripture—and contributed to my drifting from faith—was the way the story of Genesis seemed to begin.

From the outset, the narrative often appeared to suggest that God was surprised.
As though He turned His back for a moment, only to have everything unravel because of a serpent.

That portrayal never sat well with me.

The God who parted the Red Sea (Exodus 14).
The God who raised the dead (1 Kings 17; John 11).
The God who formed mighty men of valor (Judges 6:12), granted supernatural strength (Judges 16), and bestowed wisdom beyond human measure (1 Kings 3).

Was this same God truly caught off guard by a snake?

That question lingered with me for years.

Then I remembered the story of Job.

In Job, God is not startled by the presence of the adversary. He is not reactionary. He does not lose control. Rather, Scripture is explicit: God allows—within boundaries He Himself establishes (Job 1:12; Job 2:6). Nothing occurs outside His knowledge or sovereignty.

This caused me to reconsider Genesis.

Throughout Scripture, patterns repeat.
Themes echo.
What appears to be loss often becomes the setting for redemption (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28).

So I began to wonder whether my discomfort with the Garden narrative was not a problem with God—but with my understanding of the story.

What if God never lost control in Eden?
What if He was never surprised at all?

Scripture repeatedly affirms that God declares the end from the beginning (Isaiah 46:10), that all His works are known to Him from eternity (Acts 15:18), and that nothing catches Him unaware.

This led me to consider another possibility.

Hebrew is a language rich with depth, layers, and intentionality. English, by necessity, simplifies. In translation, meaning can narrow—not through error or deception, but through limitation.

Could some of the tension we feel come not from the biblical text itself, but from how it has been translated, summarized, or taught over time?

The question then shifts.

Not “How did God lose to a serpent?”
But “What if He never did?”

Seen through that lens, the story of the Garden no longer depicts divine failure, but divine foresight—where human choice, real consequence, and ultimate redemption coexist under the sovereignty of a God who was never absent, never unaware, and never defeated.

That possibility changed everything for me.

A Closing Thought 

If God was never surprised in Eden, then the story of the Garden is not about divine failure—but divine patience.
A God who allows choice, foresees consequence, and still moves history toward redemption is not weak.
He is sovereign. 

“Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.”
— 1 Timothy 2:14

Adam is often remembered as the one who failed.

The man who stood silently.
The one whose mistake plunged humanity into sin.
The weak link at the beginning of the story.

But Scripture invites us to look more closely.

Genesis tells us that Adam was not deceived (1 Timothy 2:14). Eve was deceived by the serpent; Adam was not. His choice, therefore, was not made in ignorance—but with awareness.

That distinction matters.

What Adam faced was not merely disobedience, but loss.
The potential of eternal separation from the woman he loved—the one who was bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh (Genesis 2:23).

And so a question emerges—not as doctrine, but as reflection:

What if Adam’s act was not rooted in rebellion, but in heartbreak?
What if he chose to eat, knowing the consequence, because he would not abandon his bride?

Seen through that lens, Adam’s decision does not excuse sin—but it reframes it. Not as careless weakness, but as a costly choice made in love.

Scripture later tells us that Christ is the “last Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:45). Where the first Adam chose to enter death alongside his bride, the last Adam chose to enter death for His bride (Ephesians 5:25).

The parallel is striking.

Adam’s choice did not redeem.
Christ’s did.

But perhaps Adam’s story was never meant to end in Eden.

A Reflection on the  Serpent and the Sovereignty of God

The serpent, too, is often portrayed as the moment God “lost control.”

Yet Scripture repeatedly affirms that God is never surprised, never overthrown, and never outmaneuvered (Isaiah 46:9–10; Daniel 4:35).

In Job, God permits the adversary to act—but only within boundaries He Himself establishes (Job 1:12).
At the cross, humanity and spiritual forces conspire for evil—yet Scripture declares it occurred according to God’s “definite plan and foreknowledge” (Acts 2:23).

This raises another reflective question:

What if God did not lose to the serpent in the Garden—but allowed human choice, knowing redemption would follow?

Not because sin was good.
Not because deception was harmless.
But because God would ultimately transform flesh-bound humanity into something greater—spirit reborn through Christ (John 3:6).

The serpent did not force God’s hand.
God used what was meant for destruction to accomplish redemption (Genesis 50:20).

The fall was not the end of the story.
It was the turning point.

From Flesh to Spirit — Not God’s Defeat, but God’s Design

Before the fall, humanity walked with God—but could not yet dwell in Him.

After redemption, God would do something greater.

Through Christ, humanity would not merely walk beside God, but become His dwelling place (1 Corinthians 3:16).
Not bound only to flesh, but born again of the Spirit (Romans 8:10–11).

What looked like loss became transformation.
What appeared to be weakness became the pathway to union.
What seemed like defeat became the stage for God’s greatest act of love.

This does not diminish God’s holiness.
It magnifies His sovereignty.

God did not lose control in Eden.
God did not abandon His creation.
God did not fail to anticipate the serpent.

God allowed choice—because love without choice is not love at all.

And from that choice, He wrote a story that ends not in separation, but in eternal communion.

A Closing Thought 

These reflections do not deny sin.
They do not excuse disobedience.
They do not replace Scripture.

They simply ask whether the story of the Garden might reveal not God’s weakness—but His greatness.

A God who was never surprised.
A God who redeems rather than reacts.
A God whose plan was always bigger than the fall.

 “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:22

The story of Scripture does not begin with failure.
And it does not end with death.

It begins in a garden.

In Eden, humanity walked with God—but only beside Him.
There was intimacy, but not yet union.
There was innocence, but not yet redemption.

When Adam chose to eat, Scripture tells us he was not deceived (1 Timothy 2:14). His decision carried consequence, but it also revealed something deeper: humanity’s story would henceforth be shaped by choice, sacrifice, and love that costs something.

Eden was not erased from God’s plan.
It was the opening act.

What was lost in the garden would be answered on a hill.

The Cross: Love That Chooses Death

Where Adam chose to die with his bride, Christ chose to die for His bride.

Jesus is repeatedly identified as the “last Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:45)—not merely to correct the first, but to fulfill what the first could not complete.

Adam’s choice brought death into the world.
Christ’s choice absorbed death and broke its power.

The Cross was not an interruption to God’s plan.
It was its center.

Scripture declares that Jesus laid down His life willingly (John 10:18), and that His crucifixion occurred according to God’s foreknowledge (Acts 2:23). What appeared to be humanity’s darkest hour became the moment of greatest victory.

The serpent did not win at the Cross.
He was undone there (Colossians 2:15).

The Resurrection: God’s Final Word

If the Cross was the sacrifice, the Resurrection was the declaration.

Death was not the end.
It was the threshold.

In rising from the grave, Jesus did not merely return to life—He inaugurated a new kind of life. No longer bound by flesh alone, but glorified, eternal, and victorious (1 Corinthians 15:42–44).

What began in Eden as walking with God was transformed through Christ into dwelling in God (1 Corinthians 3:16).

The Resurrection reveals what God was moving toward all along:

• Not temporary innocence
• But eternal communion
• Not fragile flesh
• But resurrected life

The garden was not forgotten.
It was fulfilled.

A Closing Thought

Seen together—Eden, the Cross, and the Resurrection tell one continuous story.

Not of God losing control.
Not of a plan derailed by a serpent.
But of a sovereign God who allows choice, redeems failure, and transforms death into life.

What looked like weakness was wisdom.
What seemed like defeat was design.
What appeared to be the end was only the beginning.

God did not lose in the Garden.
God won at the Cross.
And God sealed it in the Resurrection.