What Happens When the Fig Leaves Fall?

Genesis 3:7-10

And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.

And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden.

And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou?

And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.

What Happens When the Fig Leaves Fall?

Do you really think they’re working?

Your fig leaves, I mean.

I used to.

I once believed that all the coverings I had layered over my wounds, hurts, and shame were working.

The extensions.

The clothes.

The language.

The sex.

The performing.

The overproducing.

And in a way, they were working.

They were doing exactly what they were designed to do:

cover.

hide.

protect.

At least temporarily.

With every leaf I added, I became heavier. More tired. More disconnected from myself. Deep down, I felt like nobody really loved me.

How could they?

No one was meeting the real me.

One day, while reflecting on this passage, two questions came to mind.

Who was I hiding from?

Because I certainly wasn’t hiding from God.

He saw everything.

The wounds.

The fears.

The shame.

The striving.

The pretending.

Nothing was hidden from Him.

The second question was even harder.

If I was hiding the real me from men, what was I hoping to gain?

My priorities needed serious rearranging.

Impressing men was never my job.

Neither was performing for them.

Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten a truth I knew intellectually but had never fully experienced:

“Perfect love casteth out fear.” — 1 John 4:18

And:

“Charity shall cover the multitude of sins.” — 1 Peter 4:8

I knew those verses.

I could quote them.

But I had never truly experienced them because I had never been bare before God.

I wanted healing while still holding onto my coverings.

I wanted freedom while keeping my fig leaves.

I wanted transformation without exposure.

But healing begins where hiding ends.

For me, letting the fig leaves fall has meant caring less about what the onlookers might say and caring more about what God is doing.

It has meant choosing honesty over image.

Truth over performance.

Surrender over control.

And little by little, I am learning that God’s love is far safer than the coverings I spent years creating for myself.

Prayer

Psalm 86:11

Teach me thy way, O LORD;

I will walk in thy truth:

Unite my heart to fear thy name.

Reflection

What have you been using to cover yourself instead of bringing yourself honestly before God?