I recently returned home for a few days. It was a great opportunity for me to listen and remember God’s small voice. How long has it been since we’ve taken the time to listen the trees? Both of these trees have been part of my life as long as I can remember. One tree (left) is a pecan tree planted in 1912 by my grandmother. The other tree (right) is an oak tree. This tree dates back to 1885. I find it interesting that the oak tree is on the old Indian maps. Perhaps, this tree served as a landmark as the tribes moved through that part of Stonewall County during their travels.
I wonder what these tree might tell us today, if we would only listen? If we would only open our hearts, minds and ears, we might discover a world bigger and wider than our own. Imagine the shelter, shade, and protection these trees have provided for God’s other creatures?
As we drove up a dusty road to the back of our place, I saw two very vulnerable trees for the very first time. Trees standing tall in a field of Johnson grass at the mercy of the world. Perhaps I was able to listen to the trees because I allowed my own-self to be vulnerable. Psalm 1:3, “That person is like a tree planted by the streams of water, which yields its fruits in season and whose leaf does not wither.” As I allowed myself to be vulnerable, I was reminded that though the storms and droughts of my own life have come and gone, the roots of my own faith are as deep and strong as the trees of old.
As we open ourselves to the world around us, we are transported from that narrow place of me, myself and I, into the presence of our Creator. This is the place where we see life and people from God’s wide-angle lens, rather than our own. I encourage everyone to get outside and enjoy the world around us. Walk barefoot in the grass, walk through a park or nature trail, smell the blooming flowers in the morning or shop at a local farmer’s market. Wherever the Spirit takes us, allow ourselves to be vulnerable and then listen.
Blessings to all, keep listening…
Pastor Tom
Long Talk…. 