Trees Talk (revisited)

One of the clearest voices God speaks through is the tree. 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.

Several years ago, one of my favorite contemporary Christian lyricists, Nicole Nordeman, wrote a song called Every Season (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-JgsOMiqCs). If you want one of the most honest, insightful windows into the human experience, you need look no further than the songs of this gifted writer.  Read along and see if you don’t agree that God has given her wisdom into a language that is all around us, spoken almost completely in silence.

                                                                                                                                                                  

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.

As the seasons of life go, 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.  We often find the drudgery and grind of the rest of our life tolerable because we anticipate summer’s arrival.

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 ev’rything in time and under heaven fin’lly 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 like freshly fallen snow, the warmth of a fireplace, even the beauty of dead trees and vegetation against the backdrop of a beautiful white landscape—all of these 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 actually seem to oppose me in my journey, blocking my forward momentum.   And then, it happens:

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 ev’ry 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 do-over, 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.  It’s as if God hits the refresh button and voilà!  Reboot! 

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

[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

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