Trees Talk

Pastor’s Point:  Trees Talk

Usually when someone suggests to you that they are having conversations with inanimate objects, you begin to wonder if the porch light is on but nobody’s home. What’s that you say? The trees talk to you? I suppose the flowers whisper your name, too, right?

Actually the notion is not all that far-fetched. Throughout scripture it is suggested that God has intended all along to reveal Himself—to speak to us—through His handiwork. Consider just a few passages:

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. Psalm 19

The seas have lifted up, LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice;

the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.

Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea—

the LORD on high is mighty. Ps. 93

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities— his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Isaiah 55

As the summer months allow for us to interact more freely with our natural surroundings, it’s a good time to be a little more intentional about what nature can “say” to us. Consider with me the connection between the tree and the four seasons: summer, autumn, winter, and spring. Here in this one beautiful symbol of life we have all the stages, the actual rhythm of the human experience. And ultimately, we have the reminder that through the use of a tree, God’s redemptive plan for his fallen creation was accomplished, and we are restored. We are made right with Him.

I am reminded of the lyrics to one of my favorite Nicole Nordeman songs, Every Season.* Read along and see if you don’t agree that God’s creative handiwork has a language all its own.

Every evening sky, an invitation to trace the patterned stars.

And early in July, a celebration for freedom is ours.

And I notice You in children’s games, in those who watch them from the shade.

Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder. You are summer.

I think of the summer of our days as the best of the best. And it’s not necessarily a confined season or stage of our life. It’s just when life is good, when we’re hitting on all cylinders, and all seems right with the world. This experience comes and goes, but when we’re in the middle of it, we don’t want it to end. It’s also a time filled with discovery and awe.

And even when the trees have just surrendered to the harvest time.

Forfeiting their leaves in late September and sending us inside,

Still I notice You. When change begins and I am braced for colder winds,

I will offer thanks for what has been and what’s to come. You are autumn.

Personally, autumn is my favorite season of the year. The colors, the smells, the cooler temperatures, the activities unique to fall: they all remind me that just because something changes does not mean it can’t be beautiful or purposeful. And I have learned the longer I live, that something wondrous happens even in the process of dying—if I look for it.

And everything in time and under heaven finally falls asleep.

Wrapped in blankets white, all creation shivers underneath.

And still I notice You when branches crack and in my breath on frosted glass.

Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter. You are winter.

I can honestly say this is probably my least favorite season of the year and of life in general. It is often used to describe that stage which precedes our own death, when we fall asleep and are no more. We hear the phrase the winter of our years. Actually, I usually greet the start of winter with enthusiasm. Certain elements, the snow, the warmth of a fireplace, even the beauty of dead trees and vegetation against a white backdrop intrigue me…initially. But then comes the waiting, the frustration of life slowed down, the lack of freedom, the lack of life, the sameness of it all. At times the bitter winds and uncertain conditions seem actually to oppose me in my journey, blocking my forward momentum. But then, it happens:

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced, teaching us to breathe.

And what was frozen through is newly purposed, turning all things green.

So it is with You and how You make me new with every season’s change.

And so it will be as You are recreating me, summer, autumn, winter, spring.

You and I, along with all of God’s creation, are reborn, given a fresh start, awakened to life as it was always intended. Solomon once wrote: “Lo, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone; flowers appear on the earth, and the time for singing has come.” It reminds us that even the bleakest of periods in our lives have an ending point. God is always at work moving us forward. He has made seasons to illustrate the spectrum of our human experiences. And He has made trees, including the one that was used for His own son’s death, to remind us, that in whatever stage we find ourselves, He is at work for our good.

[Jesus] Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins,

might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed. 1 Peter 2:24 NKJV

Let the seasons speak to you. Listen to the trees. And be reminded, God is not finished with you yet.

                                                                                                                                       tad

*“Every Season” © 2000 Ariose Music, Admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing