The tree is gone. The big hackberry tree. The one that lived and grew in my back yard for 30 years or more. The one that provided so much shade. The one that provided food for the birds. The one that held the rope swing that we all enjoyed, flying through the air in long swooping arcs, toes pointed to the sky. The tree is gone, and I will miss it.
We had to cut it because it had begun to split and crack from it’s aged and weakened forks. It seemed we were only one gusty thunderstorm away from major backyard disaster. I was afraid of how it’s frailty might cause me harm, so we did away with it before it had a chance to collapse.
Sometimes I feel like that tree. Weak, barely holding it together. Starting to crack and split apart, I feel like just one more storm might do me in. I wonder why God doesn’t just take me out before I fall apart and do great harm in the process. But I suppose He has more patience than I. And I suspect He knows a bit more about how to deal with such things. Perhaps He has a bit more knowledge about holding weak trees together . . . and a lot more strength to do so.
A bruised reed He will not break, And smoking flax He will not quench, Till He sends forth justice to victory; And in His name Gentiles will trust.”
– Mathew 12:20-21 NKJV