A Life Lesson from the Trees

Daily, I am amazed at life.

Recently, I've began to catch myself staring at the trees. The way that their trunks part into thick branches which then separate into thinner branches until there are hundreds of thousands of tiny branches almost invisible to the naked eye from street level. I see these trees, nude with the winter, bare. They appear to be lifting up their arms and reaching towards the heavens.

Each tree has a story. Each has witnessed many people going past, whether on foot or in cars. These trees that are tall and large have witnessed births and deaths and comings and goings. They absorb the air that we breathe out and we inhale the oxygen that they release. They are an element of life.

Each has endured times of sunshine and times of trecherous storms. Each tree hides secrets. Some trees are dying inside and we fail to recognize it. Some are ready to bloom and flourish with spring. Some are already dead, yet remain standing until a strong wind or a crashing impact knocks them down. Some house birds and squirrels and other creatures, each with their own story as well.

I can stare at a tree, tracing it's outline with my eyes until they grow weary and have to look away. I cannot count the number of branches and twigs nor the rivets of bark nor the knots upon its trunk. I do not know the story of one single tree. But God does. He knows everything about the trees and the animals that live in them. He allowed each tree to grow from its seedling to its point of rising high above rooftops. He invisibly sculpted each branch. He designed each leaf that blooms in the spring. He blows the wind through and shines the sun down. He plucks each leaf off in the fall.

He knows me. He allowed me to grow in my mother's womb and He allowed me to born into my family. God had a purpose for me there and He knew what struggles I would face. He knew what love I would recieve and what baggage I would have. He knows every element of my existance from conception until my death. He allowed me to grow from an infant to the woman that I am now, to make mistakes, to be hurt, to love deeply. He is sculpting me into who I am called to be. He designed a way for my every trial to be an opportunity for me to bloom. He allows temptation to blow through me and shines joy upon my heart. He plucks the things from me that are dead.

But it gets even more amazing because God loves me. He loves me, with all of my flaws and sin, because He is full of grace. He loves me so much that He pushes against me when I do wrong. God knows me entirely and yet, He still loves me, even when I don't love myself. He loves me, even when I'm uncertain of what steps to take or where to go. He loves me, even when I'm a jerk, when I'm a grumpy mom or a whiny wife or a plain out crappy person.

And He knows you. He allowed you to be born and placed you into the life you live. He knew what struggles you would face and challenges you to grow from them. He knew every element of your birth, your life thus far, your future, and even your death. He has allowed you to grow and wants to sculpt you. He wants you to let Him shape your life. He wants you to reach for Him, like the trees, and to bloom. He shines down upon you and wants you to soak up His rays. He knows that which makes you dead inside and wants to pluck it from your soul, if you let Him.

And He loves you. He loves you with all of your screw ups and shortcomings, because God is grace. He loves you so much that He wants you to do what's right. He knows all of you, but he still loves you, even when you can't find the strength to love yourself. He loves you, even when you question Him or don't know what you're doing. God loves you, even when you don't deserve it, when you're mean or spiteful or seeking pitty. He loves you.

And if He loves you, then I should too.