Using Trees

The tree is used as a symbol or metaphor for a number of lessons. Artists at my school seem to enjoy the tree as an artistic means to express their confusion with life, God's Grandeur, and the heights or depths of their being. I have never seen so many diverse paintings of trees. Environmentalists hug trees in hopes of preserving land or sustaining the natural environments habitats. Writers like Annie Dillard use the tree as a tool for imagination: the trees are more powerful than humans because they know the underworld, middle earth, and the skies. I like all of these ideas and so I decided to add both prayer and ignorance to the web of tree technology.

The other day I received a letter from an extra-ordinary senior citizen named Dr. Ross Woodward. This man sends church newsletters out to all the university students from my homechurch. On every letter is written a bible verse, an encouraging word and the claim - "I am praying for you daily".

Normally, these words would plant themselves in my short-term memory and I would feel a sense of strength from this communion, through prayer. After reading these words again, I had a different experience than normal. What would it mean to have someone praying for you everyday? Routing, urging, encouraging, pleading, thanking, blessing. Like understanding a trees perspective, I cannot see beyond the trunk. I live on the east coast and I am unable to climb a tree and see the shield of prayer that is spread over my trunk.

Ignorance is hard for me to understand. There are days when I am angered by my own ignorance. I could never repay Dr. Woodward or my Grandma or Nana or my youth pastor or Bob and the list goes on. I am stuck in the middle of the tree. I could dig deep into the ground where I will never be found by prayer and never have to repay my debt. I could try to climb the trunk and find a lookout that would allow some perspective on the shield of prayer, the branches that cover my routes. Here, I could express my appreciation for these people who pray for me. Though, the abundance of prayers would tire my soul and I would have to retreat back to the trunk.

So I stand at the trunk. I stand at the foot of the cross, unable to put myself in the place of my savior and unwilling to become like the dirt or roots. The sacrifice of him and them is incomprehensible. The branches are not useful for the house I build and I will use other materials to build a foundation. I use the trunk. The middle ground. I am not humble enough to go any deeper and not powerful enough to sustain myself at the level of the crossing branches. PRAISE AND GLORY FOR THIS COMFORT AND BLESSING.