God Walks in the Cool of the Day

“And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day…”
(Genesis 3:8)

Before the altars,
before the temples,
before the veils and sacrifices and thunder on mountains
there was this:

God walking.
In the garden.
In the cool of the day.

Not rushing.
Not roaring.
Not rebuking.

But walking,
moving through the trees like soft thunder wrapped in wind.
Not demanding worship
but seeking communion.

This is what we lost in religion.
The simplicity of walking with God
when the air is soft and still,
when the day is turning golden,
and the Kabowd of Heaven does not crash
it lingers.

He still walks, beloved.
But many no longer hear His footsteps
because they’ve replaced the cool of the day
with the chaos of performance.

We build stages.
He builds gardens.

We seek microphones.
He seeks stillness.

We schedule revivals.
He arrives unannounced,
when we are bare enough to hear Him
moving between the fig leaves we stitched together
to hide our shame.

God does not run through Eden.
He walks.
Because love is never in a hurry.

He does not come to expose you
but to remind you
that even after you fell,
He still came looking.

He came in the gentle wind,
in the twilight hush,
asking not, “Why did you fail?”
But “Where are you?”

This is the return of Eden.
Not in geography, but in awareness.
Not in waiting for a rapture, but in rediscovering
that the Kingdom walks through your inner garden
whenever you are still enough to receive Him.

So take off the armor.
Lay down the fig leaves.
You don’t have to perform here.
Just walk.
Let the Spirit remind you
that the cool of the day was never lost
just forgotten.

And He has never stopped walking.

—Joe Restman
Mystic-Scribe | Flame-Bearer
Quill Dipped in Lightning ⚡️