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~The Planting of the Lord |
 When
we first moved to Bittersweet
Avenue there
was a beautiful little maple
tree in our front yard.
I have loved that tree
ever since. It has become
integrated into our family
photos through
the years. The maple
and the children have
grown up together. The
first comparison of growth
is captured in a photograph
taken during our first
year in the house in
1980. Our young daughter
was standing in the crotch
of the tree which she
could easily step up
into. The years have
passed and I now lift
my young grandson high
into that same spot to
snap his picture.The little tree has been
the focus of many of
the meditations
in my personal journal. Throughout
these seasons and years
I have seen myself and the process
of Christian growth portrayed as
in a parable in much
of the maple's life cycle.
Along that vein there
has been much to contemplate
as I have observed its nakedness
and vulnerability in the wintertime. I've also noticed its springtime budding
and the fun little seeds that spiral to the ground in the gentle
breeze. Regarding the roots of the tree, I've considered how much greater
and stronger they must be than its visible parts tohold
it so securely in place throughout every season and every kind of weather.I love it when the tender leaves come to full growth once again and
the neighborhood children come to play beneath its branches. The leaves
are hearty and green until the summer sap
retreats and the leaves begin to lose their grip. Their glory is seen as
their days are dwindling. The wind is then able to loosen them
from the tree as their strength fails at last. Then the leaves are gone
to make way for another generation that will be there in the
spring, their buds already visible. I see the old leaves are really compost,
fertilizing the tree so it can sustain new ones.I have always identified with that tree. I see it as feminine
because of the way it looks adorned with its blossoms in the springtime.
When the tree was small I remember noting its beautiful delicate
shape. This too was feminine, I thought. One day, several years ago, as
I was admiring the tree through the window, something
struck me that I had never noticed before. My beautiful tree no longer had
a full and healthy form. Yes, it was still pretty and
still healthy, but very clearly it was misshapen. I just had not noticed
it before. Then I realized why the tree was misshapen. Next door
there is a big old oak. The oak was there before my maple and it is many
times larger so it hovers over it. Also, in the side yard, there are
several tall pines. These keep the whole west side of the maple in the shade.
Hence it has only put out a couple of puny branches
on that side. But, to the east, its strong healthy branches reach toward
the heavens and nest the birds and shade the yard.Because of previous lessons I had learned from these reflections,
I felt the Lord had a message for me in this observation as well, so I waited
to see what it might be. And then I saw what I had not
seen before. My life too was misshapen. I had spent much time digging in
my roots and I lifted my branches to the heavens. I spent
plenty of time in solitude seeking the Lord and studying His Word. I drank
in the rain of His presence and basked in His light. But I was developing
one side of my life to the neglect of the other.The other, the Spirit said, was reaching out and moving among the world outside
the church, outside my precious circle of like-minded friends who gave me
constant affirmation and encouragement.
That circle was tight.
I loved it. There was no risk. "But Lord, I need them," I protested. "Jesus
did not cloister Himself nor
is that what He told you to do," was His response.Almost immediately I was lead to a place less comfortable
and more challenging. Not everyone believed as I did. I took a job in the
marketplace and began to rub elbows with people of all different
faiths and religions and even the non-religious. I was very uncomfortable
at first, but then I began to see how salt and light are
needed in the dark, wounded world.I must say I miss my safe, comfortable world, but I do not identify with that
tree any longer. I know God is growing me. He is building branches that,
abiding in Him, reach into the shadows where
the need is and not just into the light."The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord
has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted. He has sent me to bind
up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and freedom
to prisoners; to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord, and the day of
vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn,
to grant those who mourn in Zion, giving them a garland instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise
instead of a spirit of fainting. So they will be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified"
Isaiah 61:1-3.
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