Like a tree

I've been thinking a lot about trees lately. Now, that may sound weird since I'm not a biology teacher, don't have a yard, and live in a concrete-city of over a million people. But trees (and GROWTH in general) have been in my thoughts.

One of my neighbors and fellow-teachers Rhonda was commenting on a tree across the street from where she lives. Rhonda lives in the white house, which is where I lived last year. One of the best things about that house (and consequently what I miss the most) is the porch area. Perhaps my favorite thing to do last year was to sit out in the hammock, read for hours, and watch the people as they passed by. It is from that hammock that you can see a big tropical palm tree directly across the street.

Now, the tree is a little bit out of its element. It is a coconut-yielding palm tree that should be standing tall on the beach instead of stuck behind a gate on the south-side of Tegucigalpa. But this is its plight... a tree of paradise that is stuck in the hazy city where we have not seen a drop of rain in several weeks.

"If somebody would take down that cement gate and give that tree some water you might think we lived in a paradise"

Rhonda is right. With just a little more rain and little less barbed wire our neighborhood would be a different place.

Sometimes I feel like that tree. Life comes fast and hard and our days are filled with things vying for our energy, our focus, our attention. To take cover we pull away and put up our hedges of security (cement and barbed-wire gates if you will) and many times we are left covered up... dried up.

This past week was Spring Break for us here in Honduras and I took advantage of taking a trip with three other guys to the largest lake in Honduras. One evening we rented kayaks and set out on the lake. The water was so calm, so peaceful, and the vegetation so green. It was a stark contrast to the dried-up brown city where we live. The trees around Lago de Yojoa were the most vivid green and as the sun dipped below the mountains I couldn't help but be overcome by the beauty surrounding me. There was so much growth, so much LIFE.

On our way back to shore we took a few minutes to kayak around some trees growing in the lake a few feet from the shore. Their roots were fully exposed, as they drank deeply from the life-providing water beneath.

The whole scene brought a verse to my mind which has been a bit of a theme for me the last few months:

"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. For his delight is in the law of the Lord and on his law he meditates day and night. HE IS LIKE A TREE, PLANTED BY STREAMS OF WATER THAT YIELDS ITS FRUIT IN SEASON, ITS LEAF NEVER WITHERS. Whatever he does prospers"

Psalm 1

The thing I love about that picture that the Psalmist gives is that the tree is planted by the source of its nurishment. It does not mention the seasons of change when the weather gets rough, the hardships and trials and tribulations. But instead it presents a picture of a tree deeply attached to its source, despite anything that might be going on around it. It's leaf NEVER withers... not when life gets busy... not when times get tough... NEVER.

Lately I've been trying to stick by the Source. I have a tendency to be a person who tries to do as much as possible to maintain some level of control. I've got to do more to be the best teacher or the best friend or a better Christian. However, sometimes life is not about doing, it's about BEING and right now I am enjoying sitting still and drinking deeply; deeply from friendships, deeply from relationships, and deeply from God's Word.

It's a good place to be I think and I cling to the promise that one day... when my season comes... the fruit will be there with it.



Lago de Yojoa
Psalm 1:3