The leaves rustled in the garden. Eden shimmered with the breath of God coming there. It was cool and pleasant in the afternoon. Or it had always been before. The sun played upon the floor of the forest; a dappling display in the whispering wind. It could not be seen. Who has seen the wind? "The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes" ( Jn 3:8). It could be felt and it could be heard. The sound of the Lord God announced His coming. His voice was expected. But this day it caused trembling. His coming was now not treasured, not wanted. The sound of a driven leaf puts them to flight, and they flee as one flees from the sword, and they fall when none pursues ( Le 26:36).

The man watched a leaf fall from the tree from which he had eaten with her. The leaf was green no longer. It had stiffened, suffused with the rigor of death. It fluttered aimlessly. Its brown veins rigid. It scudded on the breath of the wind. The leaf had been separated from the branch. Now good only for death. Now valuable only for decay. It would become the first of the humus; the detritus of a fallen world. The dying of the world had begun.

The man groaned inwardly. "What has happened? What has become of us? We know the unknowable. We think the unthinkable. It takes our breath away. We can hardly speak. The fluency of our mutual conversation has died upon our lips. Our delight in each other has passed away, because we have used our mouths to speak of doubt and unbelief. We have fled from the wonderful promises of Him who made us. We know our nakedness. We know our shame. We know our sin. And now we know death. It is our conqueror. And hadn't He warned us?"

God was present with them. He was their friend, their companion, their benefactor, and their Father. Now no more. Alarm exploded within him, "He is coming. He is coming. He is coming. We must flee. We must hide. We must not let Him find us like this!"

They were afraid. They were afraid for the first time. Now the voice of their Father, the quiet searching sound of His voice terrified them! They hid from Him instead of seeking His face. The man and his wife, who knew no sin, became sin. Now every sound, every breath, every squeak frightened them. They hoped that the sound would go away. They hoped that the voice would not speak. That He would forget them, overlook them, and flee from them as they had fled from Him. But it was not to be.

"He called to the man and said to him, 'Where are you?'" This was a question He had never asked before, never needed to ask before. But now His voice delivered a question. A question full of pain and agony; His heart now pierced by a universe full of sorrow, because they had rejected Him. And He bore that. He still sought those whom He loved, whom He created to be His friends. He put them in this Paradise where He would tell them all with His own voice. He wanted them to know Him fully and to be known by Him. His creatures never could be slaves. Never driven by fear. And yet now they were afraid.; slaves to their own sin.

His voice was soft still, but in the softness His voice broke cracked by sorrow: "How could you?" "O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me!" (Mic 6:3). And in this quiet agony the man hears only accusation, threat, despair, and death. O how the world is fallen!