As Trees Become Uncovered

 A friend let me know she was reading my blog and I was so touched, I instantly replied. As I read back on my reflections I thought I'd share it here - in case you, too, are observing nature speak.

Thank you for responding to the things I've written. I have no idea who reads the things I write and I know much of it is just random - whatever I was thinking that day. 

Yes, I've become a peaceful parent for the most part. I have yet to write a blog post on my 7 years of yelling. But that sums up what it was. It was not good... I had much to learn. 

And yes, grief...I'm well acquainted with it. I often wonder if every issue in our lives doesn't boil down to, on some level, grief. As I witness the leaves fall off the trees I am reminded of the cold, brutal, exposure of the trees' undressing - and how often we view winter as a metaphor for the end of life. 

We are all today one day closer to that final revealing - nearer by one day, to the last day of our lives. The fragility of life - its brevity, its transience is for me a reminder of centering myself on what my purpose is - where God might want me to flourish and bear fruit. I say that as God's creation, if I reflect Him in my life, then I will have served my purpose: to make Him famous. And though I aim for a God-oriented life, I learn much from the godless, atheists, agnostics, and those of other faiths. They all have something to offer in their own reflections of their Creator, whether they acknowledge, worship, follow Him, or not.

The changing of seasons reminds me of grief and loss. Those trees which in recent days were so beautiful, are now losing their beauty. They are moving into a time of cold, chilling, inhospitable weather. Isn't life like this? We face times ahead that seem inhospitable to our souls. We look ahead and cringe. Yet God tells us, "I am in the winter too. In every season, I am here." I am again in awe of the God Who names Himself: I AM. The One Who exists, and not only exists in some far-off place, but Who exists and tells us about Himself, introduces Himself to us in love, and says, 'I'm here.'

Why do we grieve, I wonder? Why do we have to face loss, pain; an ache in our souls? I could do without these heartaches, these soul-aches. Yet for some reason the human soul can and does have its share of sorrow, and in the wise mind of God, He must somehow ordain that we grieve for our ability to also rejoice, to be known, to grow close in relationship to God and others. It is somehow part of that tangled web of life that is both mystery and discovery all at once.

The grieving soul is the willing soul - the one that is willing to bravely face the chilling seasons of life, the times that expose, that remove, that bring us down to the bark of our trunk - and to find our roots still dig deep into life-giving soil. The life of winter trees is hidden. But it is still there, deep underground where no-one sees - but God.

Hagar was the first person in the biblical text to give God a name: You are the God Who sees me. Hagar felt seen and known by God, when He tells her to go back to a miserable situation. God came to her, allowed her to be heard by Him. I wonder if she didn't find strange comfort in the fact that God - the Almighty, the Holy 'Other' - the transcendent Creator of all - that this God was not so far off, so oblivious as to miss her pain and suffering. The fact that she was seen gave her the audacity to name this God Who had given her strange instructions. 

I wonder what name I would give God based on my life experiences with Him, with others, with the circumstances He has allowed? On a bad day I might name Him the erratic One - the One I can't quite figure out, the One Who mystifies me.

On a good day I might name Him: You are the One Who lifts me up, the One Who sustains my life, the One Who won't let me go. You are the intimate God Who walks my road and blesses my life.

Thank you for letting me ramble my thoughts here. The Lord bless you!