There have been seasons in my life when my own choices led me to consequences which left me wondering "How long, Lord?" or "What hope is there?". He seemed silent, distant, and it felt as though I had either moved beyond where help could reach or He wanted me to wait to any hope to come my way. Neither were true, of course, and it neither are they in this part of our redemption story.

What began in bliss, peace, and unity has quickly began to crumble under the pressure of sin and rebellion. Thankfully, God doesn't make us sit in a never-ending holding pattern wondering when ... or IF ... He will send a rescue party to help us. His promise of hope is immediate and swift. He doesn't wait for Eden to be repaired. He speaks both judgement and hope in the midst of the wreckage of all humanity.

In the same way, He speaks hope into our wreckage. He doesn't want us to be fixed before turning to Him. He knows only He can do that.

Often we only read Genesis 3 as the place where everything went wrong; and that's not wrong. It did. Trust was fractured. Authority rejected. The garden seemed lost. But right in the middle of judgement and consequence there sprouts a promise so profound, so steadying, the rest of the Holy Scriptures will fill their pages telling how it comes about.

Scholars call this verse the "protoevangelium"; the first announcement of the gospel. Evil will wound and strike the heel, but ultimately it will not be victorious. God declares the seed, or descendant, of the woman will crush the serpent's head. This victory isn't a vague disjointed illusion. It is a promise.

I love the timing. Adam and Eve's repentance isn't complete and their disobedience is fresh and unrestored. He announces redemption anyway. Imagine His disappointment. Eve's deception wasn't, as is often told, the first act of sinful rebellion. It was at best the second. When the serpent figure began speaking, creation began to fracture. One half of the family, one of the heavenly hosts, was already engaged in it. When Eve responded, both sides of the house were now involved; spirit and human.

But God doesn't fall back on His heels in disbelief or awe. No, He rushed forward into the fray, speaking hope and revealing evil has an expiration date. The story of redemption doesn't begin with humanity clawing its way back to God, but with God declaring that He will come to rescue us.

Hope doesn't begin with human recovery, it begins with a Divine Promise.

It's easy when we fall to feel as though our failure has had the final word, that there's no way God would want us at all. But it isn't true. 

Where have you felt like your own failure has had the final word?

How does knowing God announced victory at the moment of the fall reshape how you see your own brokenness?