Tree Talk

Last evening I stretched out on my back and stared up into the branches of a wizened old oak with deeply cracked and weathered bark – waiting for it to speak, waiting for floods of childhood memories to wash over me, mirroring formative messages from another oak on a hillside by another lake so many years ago.

Evening sun hung low in the sky to spill blinding rays across the water. Gilded streaks dappled the tree’s truck with millions of flickering Tinkerbelle fairy-lights. Variegated leaves ranging from avocado to hunter green seemed woven together in Victorian elegance to shape lacy patterns against a softened, graying sky still barely reminiscent of blue.

The tree took its time. No rush, it said. And so I waited, knowing better than to demand what could only be freely given.

Brash, almost-setting sunlight streamed across the water, magnifying as it came, licking my bare feet with its radiant warmth, reassuring me. Gradually, softly, I heard with my heart.

Life is mysterious, precious, and comprised of small pieces that join like dot to dot pictures, one small moment at a time.

Greatness is a matter of dependence rather than arrogance.

Stormy weather builds character.

Acorns are miraculous gifts, fruit to be treasured and also freely spread abroad in soil that is eager and ready.

Tranquility is a matter of trusting in strong roots, divine placement, and an appointed/eternal scheme of things.

Responsibility for dare-devilish squirrels frolicking in the tree-tops begins and ends with them. Love for them begins and ends with the God who made them; the God who teaches what it means to love.

Strength and height, courage and wisdom, develop slowly or not at all.

Stubs denoting lost branches, scars reminiscent of lightning strikes, and wind-torn leaves are evidence of pruning and refinement that testify to healing, restoration, and endurance.

Confidence is a matter of faith in the One who plants and feeds and waters.

Stillness at the end of a day is a virtue to be sought, cultivated and cherished.

Phases are unique: seasons represent growth, dormancy, and adjustment. No need to waste time forcing change. If it is winter, or summer, then let it be - and trust God’s emerging plan.

Rest; be still.

Abide in Him.

Watch. Wait.

The sun dropped behind the treetops; bronze turned to silver; shadows fell. The tree stood serenely, waiting for dark, for the moon, for the next dawn and another day; waiting expectantly with submitted acceptance for life to unfold; waiting nobly while well-grounded and reaching and inching higher … ever higher.