The Storm's Aftermath

Aftermath.

That word suddenly looked funny when I typed it.  What does "math" have to do with "consequences, effects, results, wake..."?

Anyway, the storm that was filling the horizon as I picked my first bouquet of the year did indeed arrive. And it blew in "with a bang." Or a crash. Or a rapid, crackling sound that I mistook a few seconds for the rattle of hail... until I saw the tree falling.

The stately basswood in our front lawn had split off into two trunks well above my head. Years ago I would climb up to perch among the sturdy limbs, and it has remained a favorite staging ground for birds making forays on our feeders while keeping a wary eye out for cats. We could even spot the tiny hummingbirds resting on a convenient dead twig. But years of storms, bugs, and woodpeckers were taking their toll. It didn't show to a casual observer on the ground, but half of the tree had grown weak and rotten. 

And when the storm winds came, the tree showed its true colors. 

Regi looking at the blocked driveway and wondering "Where did this come from?!"

Sadly, half of the tree fell on our rose bed...

...and took out the lamp post on its way down.

This makes me think... life is full of storms. I can be going along "just fine" and think I'm doing pretty well. But when the gusts hit, what do I show? 

A rotten core that collapses and leaves damage in its wake? Or a strength built up through using the sunshine God sends and holding on tightly with roots sunk deep into His truth when the storms toss me about?

Hmm.... I don't like the answer to that question some days.

I think I need to start singing again a song we taught to our Bright Lights girls. The words go something like this:

I saw a tree by the riverside one day as I walked along. 

Straight as an arrow and pointing to the sky; growing tall and strong. 

“How do you grow so strong and tall?” I said to the riverside tree. 

This is the song that my tree friend sang to me. 

I’ve got roots growing down to the water, 

I’ve got leaves growing up to the sunshine, 

and the fruit that I bear is a sign of life in me. 

I am shade from the hot summer sundown. 

I am nest for the birds of the heaven. 

I’m becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be: 

A strong young tree.

I saw a tree in the city streets, where buildings blocked the sun. 

Green and lovely, I could see it gave joy to everyone. 

“How do you grow in the city streets?” I said to the downtown tree. 

This is the song that my tree friend sang to me:

 I’ve got roots growing down to the water, 

I’ve got leaves growing up to the sunshine, 

and the fruit I bear is a sign of the life in me. 

I am shade from the hot summer sundown. 

I am nest for the birds of the heaven. 

I’m becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be: 

A strong young tree.

(The Tree Song by Ken Medema)

And then there's Psalm 1: 

"Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,

nor stands in the way of sinners,

nor sits in the seat of scoffers;

but 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 its season, and its leaf does not wither.

In all that he does, he prospers..." (ESV)