Ayeka: Where Are You?

I’ll be honest, I haven’t ever been great about Come Follow Me study. I’ve been off and on, hit, lots of misses, and now we’re in 2026. I’ve made it a goal this year to study every night, even just for a few minutes in the special “journal edition” CFM manual I bought myself for extra support (pro-tip: it's working!). 

Boy, am I glad I started. 

Within 3 chapters of Genesis, we get to the Fall of Adam & Eve. So, here we are. Knee-deep in the Garden of Eden. I got out of bed from my now-sleeping kids to study this certain night, my heart heavy and yearning for insights. I try to imagine these studies as “time with Jesus” where he’s patiently waiting for me on the couch, just thrilled at the moment I come to learn from him. It gets hard some nights when I feel like I have a lot on my to-do list, but I felt especially aching for this time with Him. I opened the journal, and of course, just from the introduction, I knew it was going to be a good session.

I feel like when we talk about the Fall, it’s usually in big, theological terms. ... the choice. The fruit. The “fortunate” transition into mortality. That’s all good and fine, but … I wanted to go deeper. And the more I pressed, the more I found. 

“Ayeka."

I’ve always been interested at God’s question to Adam and Eve after they’ve eaten the fruit and hide themselves behind a bush. “Where art thou?” 

As a kid, watching Hannah Barbara’s cartoon adaptation of this (with Derek, Margot, and Moki!), hearing God’s booming voice asking Adam this question … I mean, I’d be afraid too, based on that portrayal. 

But, we know that God is omniscient. He didn’t need a GPS coordinate. He knew exactly which bush they were shaking behind. So, He asks the question, and in Hebrew that translation is “Ayeka.” I love it because it’s not about geography or physical location. It’s about the soul. 

The Question That Just Breaks Your Heart

This question, “Ayeka” is a soul-searching invitation. It’s God’s way of saying, “In what condition do you find yourself?”, or even more poignant, “I am here. But you have moved. Where are you now, in relation to me?”

What’s so incredible is that the root word of Ayeka is almost identical to "Eikha", the Hebrew word used for the Biblical book of Lamentations. It’s the sound of a heartbroken father, crying out, “How could this be?” or “Alas!” 

God wasn’t some hunter tracking down prey; He was a Father. A Father looking for His children who had suddenly become strangers to themselves and were trying to figure it out on their own. 

But here's the thing: while God's heart may have been heavy for the pain they were about to face, He knew this was a choice. Especially for Eve. I love the realization that she was never "tricked" by the serpent. She was making an informed choice. She knew that they couldn't stay in the garden forever if they wanted to grow. If they wanted to progress.

I think about that moment for her ... had she been thinking about it for some time before the little snake came along? How long was it on her mind, as she gazed across the bliss of Eden, surveying the wonders of waterfalls and lush gardens. Did she talk to Adam about their future, what it would look like? And if so, was there a heavy realization that if they stayed, nothing would change. That stagnation was the real enemy in the Garden?

Did she really understand the pain, the sorrow, the anguish that would come from a mortal life? And on the flip side, did she comprehend the indescribable joy, and unspeakable delight that would come from that same life? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, she chose it. She chose mortality so that we could have life.

And notice this: God never actually cursed Adam or Eve. He cursed the serpent and He cursed the ground "for thy sake" (Genesis 3:17). He was speaking to Adam, yes, but that "sake" includes all of us. The thorns weren't a punishment; they were the tools for the"opportunity to grow" as the CFM manual so beautifully states. 

Fig Leaves vs. The Lamb

But even with that informed choice, they still felt that immediate human instinct to hide.

Which brings me to another thought I've always had while reading this: leaves? They’re sewing fig leaves together to cover their nakedness … why and what for? 

Then I thought of my to-do list. My insecurities. My pride. (Dang, that Satan. He just loves to make us feel like we have to fix ourselves before God can see us.) We all have our “fig leaves”, don’t we? No one wants to walk around so vulnerable in our imperfections. 

So, it makes sense; we cover them up. When we mess up and feel “naked” in our inadequacies, we try to stitch together a solution. We hide behind being “busy”, we strive for a fake sense of perfection, or we just … plain hide. We stop trying because we’re afraid to be seen.

But fig leaves are flimsy. They wither. They don’t actually heal the vulnerability we feel-they just mask it. 

The scriptures tell us that God replaced those leaves with “coats of skins”. Think about that for a second. This was the very first sacrifice! In order for Adam and Eve to be “covered” (which is the literal Hebrew meaning of Kippur, or Atonement), something innocent had to die. 

God was teaching them right there, next to those flimsy little fig bushes, “Your own efforts to hide your mistakes won’t last, but I will cover you with a sacrifice. One that will last forever. The Lamb of God."

A Personal, Hands-on Kind of Love

You can imagine that by this point I’m just giddy with the spirit (totally a thing haha) and then I had another very personal realization. God didn’t just toss the clothes they made over the bushes and tell them to “get dressed.” In verse 21, it says that HE "made them … and clothed them”. This was the most personal, hands-on act of care, love, and compassion. Not only did he meet them in their mess, but he provided a sacrifice Himself, and wrapped them in His protection. 

My mind immediately went to my own temple garments. How every day, when I choose to put them on, I am not just remembering a sacrifice; I'm honoring the "informed choice" made by Eve and Adam into this mortal experience. I am making a choice. 

I'm saying, "I choose growth. I choose the thorns. And I'm choosing the Protection that makes it all possible."

I can hear God saying, “Ayeka” or “Where is our relationship today?” When God asked it in the garden, it wasn’t to physically find Adam, but to initiate the conversation about their broken relationship. 

And God is still doing that today. 

And when I choose to wear my temple garments, because I want to remain close in my relationship with my Savior, I remember that "God made them". They are full of symbolism, and if I do my part to keep the relationship close, He will ALWAYS fulfill His part. And He already has, by making the ultimate sacrifice. 

How often do I try to cover up the mistakes I’ve made? Hide behind my busyness, my fake “badge of honor”? How would it change each day if I let Him clothe me instead? 

The Choice to Stop Hiding

The Fall wasn’t a mistake. It was a deliberate choice by a woman who realized there was more to life than bliss. There needed to be some growth, some pains, maybe even some sweat. 

And just like the Fall wasn’t a mistake, your current mess isn’t either. It’s just the landscape where we finally learn to stop trusting our own flimsy “leaf” covers and start trusting His lasting “skin” cover. The only cover that does any good.

As Elder Holland once said, “It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.” He found Adam in the brush, and He will find you in whatever “thorns” you’re tangling with today. He isn’t waiting for you to get out of the bushes to love you! He’s already there with a coat in His hands.

As you go about your week, listen for that quiet “Ayeka?” stirring in your heart. I promise, it won’t be as a demand for your location, but as an invitation for connection.

Maybe you're feeling the sting of the thorns today. Maybe you're just plain overwhelmed by the "toil" of the ground you've got to work with. Whatever it is, I like to think of Eve, remembering that I chose this growth, and that God never intended for the thorns to destroy me, only to refine me. 

If you stopped hiding behind your “fig leaves” - the busyness, the perfectionism, the “I’m fine”, and let God truly see where you are right now … what’s the first thing you think He would say to you?

I have a feeling it’s a lot more tender than you think. In fact, I know it. I don't think he'd mention the fruit. He wouldn't mention the mistake. I'm thinking He'd simply hold out that coat, that "garment of light" tailored specifically for you, and ask who you need Him to be. 

He didn't leave Adam and Eve to wander the thorns alone, and He won't leave you. 

Consider the lillies of the field. How they grow. 

Consider the birds in the sky. How they fly.

He will feed those who trust Him,

And guide them with His eye.