“The cool of the day.”
When my pastor spoke those words from the first portion of Genesis 3:8 in a sermon a few weeks back, my heart jumped, “And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (ESV).
His sermon was actually called “Going Through the Change,” and my pastor told me later that this verse was not originally part of his outline that day.
He was basically relaying the story of Adam and Eve and how their sin separated them from God, drastically changing their lives – and their address. With armed angels guarding its entrance, they were not even allowed inside the Garden of Eden.
Then, pastor asked if we could imagine how sad it must have been for God to no longer be able to walk with His own children in the cool of the day.
I wept – because I totally understand that pain.
Every day since our son Chris died in June, I cry each afternoon. Like clockwork. the tears puddle and fall around 3 p.m.
It took me a few days of grieving before I realized that no matter where I am, I find myself heart-sick for my child around that time each afternoon. Even on the days I am busy, I always feel a twinge around that time of the afternoon.
I began to ponder why that time each day was so hard. Why the tears at 3:00?
I first thought it was from all my years of being a teacher’s kid and then a teacher myself. That was usually the time of day when school was out, the students were gone, and I was done for the day, physically and mentally exhausted.
But what I have felt each afternoon since Chris died was beyond exhaustion. It was a deep, spiritual ache, and nothing I did seemed to prevent it or even make it easier to bear.
During pastor’s sermon, it hit me.
“The cool of the day.”
I realized that every day of my life as a mom, those hours after school were some of the most special times with my boys.
As toddlers, we called my parents (who both worked at schools) every afternoon and told them about the day’s accomplishments. Each boy had his moments to share something special with Mamaw and Papaw, a time to love and be loved.
When they started school, I went with them as a teacher. We rode home together and shared tidbits of our days with each other. We often stopped for favorite snacks, like rainbow sherbet ice cream, or we called their dad at work to make family dinner plans.
As they got older, these were the times spent between school and activities, the only moments without an agenda. Again, they were just moments to love and be loved.
Soon, the boys got their own cars, and around 3:00, I got a daily phone call to assure me that they were safe and headed to whatever sport practice the season demanded. With teenagers, I cherished those moments when they told me the good, the bad, and the ugly of their days.
Then, Chris went to college and played baseball out of state. But still, that time between classes and practice was our golden hour. We laughed and cried – and even argued a bit at times – for Chris could dole out the truth better than anyone I ever knew.
During those talks, Chris also began to share deeply spiritual things that God was teaching him as he was alone and away from family for the first time. He shared verses and worship songs, or prayer needs for himself and his new friends. I just listened and tried not to give too much advice.
And what I began to hear in our afternoon phone calls was God growing my son into a man by the truth of His Word. I learned much from Chris in those conversations. And I was in awe of God’s faithfulness to me as a mom.
Those moments did not stop after college.
Chris always seemed to find time each afternoon to call and check in. Sometimes, it was merely a minute or two, but he shared something about his day and something to encourage me. It was just a few moments to love and be loved.
Then, Chris became a coach and a teacher six years ago – the fourth generation of teachers in our family. But when he was diagnosed with chronic leukemia that same year, less than three months into his teaching career, it was the perfect setup for life-giving conversations each day.
Chris usually called between his teaching time and his after-school coaching responsibilities. Granted, some days, we just talked about the mundane things of life, including what the grandkids were doing or our personal plans for the next day. Sometimes, we complained of how exhausted we both were. But other times, we shared what God was showing us or teaching us throughout our day. We talked of deep things, prayer needs, or purposeful dreams and plans.
In the past year or so, Chris grew much more purposeful with our talks. He became the teacher, and I was the student. Truly, iron sharpened iron because he challenged me daily to live out the Scriptures that I had taught him and his brother their entire lives.
Whatever the conversation, those were the precious, grace-filled, cool-of-the-day moments when I visited with my grown child. Looking back, the cool of the day with Chris was one of the best gifts God ever gave me as a mother.
But then – just as in Chapter 3 of Genesis – those moments ceased instantaneously on June 20, 2023, at 2:30 p.m., when Chris died.
So, yes, I think I know a little of what God must have felt on that day when He could no longer walk with his children, Adam and Eve, in the cool of the day.
More importantly, God knows exactly how I felt when I no longer could spend the cool of the day with my child.
Hallelujah, the God of the Universe knows how I feel.
And that feeling, that never-ending ache of separation and loneliness, is exactly why God sent His one and only Son to save us.
Think about it!
Our God did not want to be without us in the cool of the day, so He sent Jesus to redeem us and bring us back Home to walk again with Him in the cool of the day.
“The cool of the day.”
What hope I find in that one simple phrase.
How amazing!
God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son to save us and bring us back into right standing relationship with Him. And because of Jesus, nothing can stand in the way of that relationship ever again.
We don’t have to fight our way past angelic beings with flashing, flaming swords to get back home to the Father. The gate has been flung wide open by the blood of the Lamb, and we are invited in to talk with Him and walk with Him – in the cool of the day.
Yes, what Jesus did on Calvary was for our eternal good, but it was way more than that. It was about a daily relationship with God.
In fact, the entire Bible could be summed up in that one phrase – the cool of the day. That is the entirety of the gospel message.
He knows us; He loves us; and He wants to be with us, one on one, continually. The Father desires a never-ending relationship with His beloved children.
God wants to walk with each of us in the cool of the day.
But when was the last time, we took Him up on that invitation? When was the last time we laid aside every other distraction, including our handy-dandy cell phones and computers, in order to be with our Father?
When was the last time we went to Him first, instead of worrying and fretting, or gossiping and talking with others about the things concerning us?
Most importantly, when was the last time that we truly asked Him what He wanted from us rather than telling Him what we want from Him?
When was the last time we came into His presence and just listened? When was the last time we quietly, wordlessly walked with Him in the cool of the day?
Let me tell you!
Those quiet, wordless walks with my Father are all that is holding this grieving momma together right now. I could not get up in the morning without Him. I am so grateful that He is holding me safe and secure in His hand even as I write these final words of challenge.
So, I beg you to seek Him, find Him, and build a relationship with Him. He has given everything to love and be loved by you.
Even now, He’s waiting to talk a walk with you – in the cool of this day.
