Solid and Strong

“He is like a tree, planted by streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers.”

Psalm 1:3

There is a solid, mature oak tree that mounts high outside my kitchen window. With the warmer weather, I’ve had opportunity to sit on my deck and observe its new growth. This is a familiar process for me. I admire the stability of the reoccuring seasons, specifically the endurance and dependability of this particular tree. Through cold winds, blustery clouds, frigid ice and snow…through the tumult of fierce winter storms, the tree holds its own. Then, when the time is due, Spring brings growth, buds form which eventually blossom into full, lush, healthy foliage. Majestic, it boasts character and beauty.

I want to be like that tree.

I know, like the tree, my strength and fortitude must come from a deeply solid and nourished root system.
For me, that prospect makes me yawn.
I wonder if that tree ever feels tired of drinking up the same predictable nutrients from the soil, processing the repeated cycle of nourishment year after year, no excitement, no change of surroundings, no flashy ‘coming of age’ to display a new bolder leaf pattern?

Uh..no. It’s a tree.

But I often do. I am impatient and often discontent. Sameness grows gray and dull. Doing the routine, the disciplines of responsibility, the basics of faithfulness often is tedious. The scenery in the next yard must offer greater allure, and I bemoan my repetitive dutiful pursuits….is this necessary!?

God beckons me in kindness to the answer: it is the safe pasture of His solid truth and the call of His disciplined grace. Indeed, it is this very pursuit which roots me deeply into heart affections that connect me to Him…To His all-sufficiency and goodness. He is strength.

Even the long winter of depression's darkness and my oppressive suffering prove His sanctifying design, for it plunges me deeper into a root system of strength---not my own, but His.
Revealing my weakness gives opportunity for my dependence on Him to grow. Even when I don’t like it.

But a majestic, tall, solid, secure tree doesn’t get that way by spending balmy days in a cool breeze. And neither will I. And so I pray: Lord, grant me joyful submission, acceptance, and the incomparable gift of your work in my heart, and let the fruit blossom. 

May my life boast in and point to You.

Like that oak tree outside my window does year after year after year.