everyday wonderings

Last fall, a big storm blew through our town in the black of the night. The rain fell hard and the wind speeds uprooted giant trees; causing a great deal of roof damage and debris in yards and roads to be discovered the next morning. 

A week or so after the storm, I noticed something peculiar in the woods of our backyard. A small Dogwood tree had been broken about six feet up from the ground. The top of the tree was fallen and hung, toppled over, near the trunk at an angle; forming an upside-down V. The tree was badly broken but not completely severed. A small sliver of the trunk was still connecting it to the rest of the tree hanging down, touching the ground beside it. What caught my attention was that the branches and leaves were still alive. How odd. Typically, a tree broken in that way wouldn’t survive since the trauma of the break would make it too fractured and damaged.

My curiosity was peaked so I slipped on my boots to walk out and examine it a little closer. Surprisingly, that broken part of the tree’s trunk was still somehow keeping the tree alive, despite the damage. The life flowing from deep down in the roots thru the thin sliver still connecting the trunk to the top was enough to keep the leaves vibrant, green and alive; the tree was still producing fruit. Incredible! I was in awe.

Even though it appeared the storm had detached the tree enough to completely destroy it, it didn’t. I’m not a horticulturist, but it seems to me the tree is still alive because it’s deeply connected to its roots; its foundation. 

Even though the tree looks different than it did before the storm, now bearing scars and noticeable change; it still has life. And it’s not just living, but it can continue to bear fruit. Yielding what it was created to produce. Its purpose isn’t finished yet. 

Even though the apparent traumatic experience is very much a part of the tree from now on, that trauma isn’t the only part of the tree’s existence. Like a scar, it exposes the fact that it has a story. But the tree’s identity is in more than that trauma. The leaves will continue to change colors in the fall and it will grow its beautiful white, delicate flowers in the spring. And consider the seeds it may spur on now, too.

Even though all things for the tree will be filtered thru the scar from now on, giving it a new point of view, that doesn’t make it less valuable… it just makes this tree different. Unique. Special. A new chapter of its life has begun. And that newness wouldn’t be possible without the break.

I have a friend who has walked a hard road lately. Her life reminds me of the tree. Maybe you can relate? Her storm has been a big one. Bringing hurt, heartache, and loss. It has scarred her and nearly taken her down. Her life looks different today than it used to. There are some obvious changes. BUT God being rich in mercy (Ephesians 2:4) has kept her in His grasp and she has kept her roots in Him. 

In the aftermath of her storm, she is connected to the one who gives her life and therefore, she is continuing to bear fruit, love others, and let her story of the storm in her life show others who God is and what He’s done in her.

I look at the little tree out the back window as I wash dishes and wonder what else we can learn from this tree since Jesus does a lot of teaching thru nature. 

My friend (and the tree) could have been totally destroyed by the crazy storm thrown out of nowhere, but she chose to stay deeply connected to her roots in Jesus. She rises early in the morning to fill her mind with the truth of God’s word before the lies of the enemy can begin to attack. Lies which are trying to convince her she’s too broken and scarred to be valued. Instead, she reads the truth from David, “A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Psalm 51:17 and Psalm 34:18, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Just as it’s apparent the tree has been through something; my friend’s life also looks different these days. She has a different story now. Change is allowed and dare I say, good. She gets to give herself permission to both approach situations differently and see things thru her new lens. Sometimes change is drastic, other times it may not be noticed until after the fact, but either way, ‘He is making all things new!’ Rev 21:5. Making is a verb, continuing to do it… we’re always changing. 

More beauty is found in the fact that we’re changing constantly but God will never change. Heb 13:8, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.” If our roots are connected to Him as the sturdy, unchanging trunk, then whatever flows up from it is able to thrive – only because of those roots and only because of God’s unchanging love. Because of Jesus. God’s kindness to this broken world: Jesus. Sent to save us and hold us steady in our brokenness.

Bearing fruit from this point forward will be in a new way – the little tree is blooming low to the ground now, instead of up high and tall. And my friend is now in new circles of relationships she never could have entered before – either way, still bearing fruit. Still with a purpose. 

A few weeks into my deep dive over this little broken tree, one more thing came into view that now I can’t unsee… adjacent to the broken trunk are two large, sturdy, thriving trees. Perhaps giving the little broken one some shade. Some protection. Encouragement maybe? I can imagine the roots intertwined underneath the dirt as if to hold the broken one together when it can’t do it alone. You see where this is going by now, I’m sure… it’s just like my beautiful friend who I know is not walking this hard road alone. She has a couple close friends she has let into the story. Sharing the hard stuff, crying and praying together, allowing the friends to be her sturdy trees, to both cover her in prayer and hold her up. What a picture of how God has designed community. But she had to choose to let them in.

I’ll end this story imagining we’re sitting at my kitchen table together, looking at the beautiful brokenness of my new favorite little tree, our faces wet with tears as we embrace where life has us both in this season. 

Either as the broken tree, allowing God to keep working, even when it’s hard. Showing up each day asking him for strength and for new ways to bear the fruit he has purposed in this season.

Or maybe today you’re to be the holder, the encourager, the quiet friend giving some shade to another who isn’t sure they can make it.

And then together we’ll rejoice when that first little bud of new growth comes up from a broken branch and together, we’ll give glory to God for the things only He can do out of our broken lives. 

God is with us. 

May He be our roots and our foundation. 

And may He, in his faithfulness, continue to make all things new.