When I was little my favorite time of day, the time that felt soft and full of peace, was when the sun was setting and the trees made long, cool, shadows across the lawn. Even now, when I see this, I can almost feel the calm, cool, shadowy, green grass in my heart. That speaks of God to me, and how He is our place of quiet refuge.
I like trees because they are strong and sturdy. They can grow anywhere, even out of cracks in the side of a cliff, or in an open field. They make me want to be that strong, that steadfast, that rooted into the soil. They remind me I can't be like that unless I have dirt to wrap around, light to warm and give energy, and water to slurp up to the tip of each limb and stick.
Trees change with the seasons; lush and green when the water is a plenty, vibrantly painted when death is approaching, bare and black against blue sky while awaiting warmth and buds again. They are honest, showing what they are, what they have to offer, what they need and are waiting for. We don't look at a tree in winter and wonder why it isn't pretty and green and giving us fruit. Why do we look at a friend, also in a time of winter, and expect them to be shading us, feeding us, looking pretty? At the same time, the essence of that tree is still present: it's roots still strain down deeper, its bark continues to wrap around its sturdy trunk, limbs reach upward and out. The hope is still there. It still has a future.
The final reason I feel drawn to trees is because of how they are spoken of in the Word. Psalm 1 says that the man who delights in the law (in knowing and following God's ways), will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water; while in chapter 52 the Psalmist declares, "I am like a green olive tree in the house of God." Proverbs says that wisdom is a "tree of life to those who take hold of her and happy are those who hold her fast."
I'll say with the Psalmist, not that I want to be a tree, but that I AM a tree. I have been planted firmly in the house of God- planted by a stream of living water, provided with all I need to grow, but not necessarily sheltered from the weather. Regardless of the climate I live in, I want to produce fruit, provide shade, have leaves that won't whither, bring life into dead places. I will be a tree.
4 comments:
Nice!
Awww...I love this! I love the pictures (especially the first one) and truly relate to your love for trees, shadows, green grass, and nature as a whole. Love you lots, my firmly rooted friend!
I completely agree! In fact, Justyn and I have a song that we wrote recently about being trees whose roots are deep and branches long. I'll email it to you. Something that I had some revelation on this winter about trees was that when a tree is bare, you can see what it is made of. In winter, trees are stripped bare to bear the harsh winter. If a tree is strong down to its roots, it will survive. There was an ice storm in Gentry and Gravette areas and in West Siloam all the way to Tulsa. There are many trees that looked sturdy that were completely split in half. But the ones that were strong on the inside were the only ones that survived. . .these trees did not have even one twig broken.
Beautiful, indeed.
Trees are precious, a gift of God, and unique beings in their own right.
Show me a person who plants trees and loves trees -- and I will show you someone I trust.
Show me someone who considers a tree as mere lumber or annoyance in progress' way, to be elbowed out of the way, cut down without a shred of sorrow -- and I will show you someone for whom I have little respect.
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