I have always loved trees.  When I was younger some of my most cherished moments were planting any number of little evergreens with my dad, and then watching them grow into giants.  I can’t tell you how many hundreds of trees we have planted at Lilac Woods in the last 40 years.  Several, at least. 

So I am always aware of the green ones among us, but this time of year they of course become especially visible, don’t they?  The colors of October we have here in Ohio I consider a consolation prize – a reassurance from God to take with us as we enter the darker days of the next four to five months. A reminder that the grey won’t win.

I am especially glad to see this year that our “tornado trees” continue to recuperate!  These are several maples in the very NW corner of our property that bore the brunt of the tornadic winds that tore through here on Memorial Day, 2019. Unlike some places in the area, our damage was minimal.  Some torn up siding and trim, but lots  of branches down.  Broke my heart to see this, and it took quite a bit of work to clean up afterward.  Our gratitude for their sacrifice was immense though, for I am sure they at least somewhat slowed the wind speed.

My fear was that these middle-aged giants would simply give it up.  They were definitely lop-sided!  It has been a delight to watch them not only leaf out again each spring since, but to begin to put out new branches and heal. 

You know what, though?  Despite their injuries, they have continued to provide us with shade, shelter for a vast variety of birds (including hawks and owls), and oxygen to breathe.  And this time of year – gorgeous colors.  

When I reflect on these trees, two primary thoughts come to mind.  The first, that despite – or perhaps especially because of – their wounds and lopsidedness, they are very much loved and appreciated.  And the second, that it is over the winter that they have healed the most.  I’m a sunshine person.  I very much look forward to the return of long and lovely days in the spring, so grey days can get me down.  And yet, that darker period of rest is when those trees put down deeper roots, bring in more nourishment from the soil, and grow! 

So very much like us.  God looks at us, wounds and broken branches and all, and loves us anyway.   Perhaps the wounded are loved the most, for they often recognize both their dependence, and their need for divine help!   Unlike trees, of course, we tend to focus on the wounds and see ourselves as somehow incomplete, or imperfect.  Not so with God.  Despite the broken branches, those trees continued to just be the best tree they could be.  Are we asked to do anything more? 

Also, even though many of us despise the dark times, they are so important for us, aren’t they?  If we can only hang on through those day / weeks / months / years we can grow immensely.  If we push our roots deeper and grow stronger as a result, if we reach further toward the possibilities, we truly become people of beauty.  People who are what they were created to be.

We become even more so people very much loved by the one who created us, despite our supposed “deficiencies” and problems!

Listen to the trees. They have so very much to teach us.