Thursday, January 29

Trees & Seasons

“His delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night.  He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither and whatever He does shall prosper.”  Psalm 1:2-3
Have you ever stopped to consider the untold lessons that are in a tree?  Most days, trees are just trees, and I fail to notice them until one really stands out.  What makes that tree catch my eye?  Is it the towering height, enormous girth, twisted shape, or some unique feature that distinguishes it from all others?  Or, is it the vibrant color of the leaves, the sheer volume of leaves, or the total lack of leaves that make me take a second glance?  Or do I notice trees more in the newness of spring as little buds begin to form on branches?  Or do I notice them more in the summer when I need a cool place to rest?  What about the fall when trees seem like they are on fire with bright hues of orange, yellow, and red; or the winter, when they stand there lonely and bare? 

As trees greet each new season, one fact remains:  a tree is still every bit of a tree—strong, solid, even beautiful—in the bareness of winter as it is in all of its glory in the heat of summer.  No matter the season, the tree stands tall and firm.  It thrives.  It grows.  It weathers all types of conditions that beat against it, from the strong storm gusts to the pelting sleet and rain to the parchment that comes from the hot summer’s sun.  The very core (trunk) of the tree remains sure regardless of the season.

Though the tree stands solid and sure, there is a lot going on within its branches and leaves.  The leaves are ever-changing, ever-cycling, and ever telling a story of God’s purpose and design.  In the spring, we see new life as tiny little buds begin to appear on the branches.  This new life signifies a rebirth, restoration, growth, change, and hope.  In the summer, the leaves reach maturity and provide much needed shade all the while photosynthesis is going on in the background to help the tree grow, reach its peak, store food for the winter, and thrive.  It signifies work, energy, reward, and even rest.  In the fall, the leaves change color and they let go of the tree because weather conditions are just so that they cannot keep feeding the tree. They served their purpose and are now leaving to make way for the next set of leaves.  In the winter, trees revert into dormancy where everything slows down inside of it.  It focuses its energies on surviving the winter and does what it can to protect itself from the harsh winter elements. 

All of this reminds me so much of the seasons of our lives. Merriam-Webster defines ‘season’ as "a time characterized by a particular circumstance or feature; a suitable or natural time or occasion; an indefinite period or time; a period of the year characterized or associated with a particular activity or phenomenon." 

We all experience seasons where we jump into something new and experience the joys and challenges of new ideas, opportunities, and relationships.  We begin to live out of our capacity until what we expend goes way beyond our capacity but strive so hard to hang on.  At that point, we begin to lose those things that we didn’t want to lose.  Sometimes it’s little things but sometimes, we lose the big, irreplaceable leaves of life like our family, friends, and even God.  Our life empties itself, leaf by leaf, of the things we once loved.  We are left still standing, but we are standing empty and bare.  We retreat and wonder where we got it wrong.  We try to recover from running at 100 mph for so long.  We try to restore relationships that were let go when we were too busy to notice, yet we realize the problem was with us all along.  We find ourselves in a dormant period where we have done everything but the very thing God wants of us...and that is to be still and to know that He is God (Psalm 46:10). 

Slowly, as we lay dormant before God, we see the promise and hope of new buds.  But it's still not the time for them to sprout just yet.  We must learn to stay still and let Him work, let Him bring the growth, let Him restore us to our capacity.

While nature works in quarterly, predictable seasons, our lives ebb and flow in a myriad of seasons.  A season of education, a season of new love, a season of parenthood, a season of the empty nest, a season of retirement, a season of health, a season of sickness, a season of sadness, and a season of joy.  As much as we want it to, we can’t make these seasons conform to a calendar or time frame, nor can we make them conform to each other's seasons.  Each season is as unique as each individual, as unique as every tree, as unique as every leaf.

Maybe instead of fighting our seasons so much and wishing our seasons looked like the others around us, we should simply stand solid and sure as the trees do in our yard, letting God work in and out of us the purposes that He desires.  In this way, our outward “leaves” have a chance to tell the story of Him and in the most beautiful way that commands others to see Him.


“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to gain, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.”

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8