Green Tree
It’s green!
It’s green!
I could not be more ecstatic.
I really, really, really, thought it was dead. I didn’t cry, of course. It’s a tree. But, my soul sure was downcast. I so desperately wanted life for it. Every tree I have ever personally planted with my two fatal thumbs have gone the way of soil back into God’s green earth. My own personal regeneration contributions.
But, what do I know? What am I to do?
“I don’t make tender grass spring up. I don’t tilt the water jars of heaven when the ground is dry and the soil hardened to clods. My breath doesn’t send the ice. I can’t spread light to the ends of the earth.”
I’m so glad that I stopped short of terminating this little tree of life when I thought there wasn’t any. It was in such an undeveloped stage, though. I had confirmed with others in this sorry plight and was resolving myself to its unfortunate fate. Dare I mention my own husband who is mildly inconvenienced by its mere maintenance. I could always attempt to try again amid better conditions. I didn’t want to be void of wisdom though, so I tried to refrain from acting hastily. I retained a wee bit of excitement to consider the full beauty and purpose it could play.
With one quick double-take as I passed it with the lawnmower assessing whether to mow right over it, I literally had to stop the mower and bend over low to get up close and personal and my heart rejoiced.
There was evidence of life.
That was my hope. That was my hope.
I was just so thrilled for the sign that there is still abundant life to burst forth and so much potential for full flourishing.
It’s like God saying, “No need to mow what I intend to grow.”
You will be nurtured my little slight sprig.
Such a small life must be preserved by such great care.
Psalm 92:12
Job 38
Psalm 139