As I think about my own walk with Christ, I am amazed at the subtle thread of trees woven into my personal faith story. I remember stretching out under a big tree at my grandma’s house and talking to God as a little girl. I remember swinging alone on a tree swing as a teenager and wishing Jesus would just show up to give me a push and offer some advice to the dilemma churning in my soul. I remember rocking my first baby in the wee hours of the morning and begging the Lord to use my son to grow fruit on our family tree. But my favorite memory of a tree moment took place two years ago as I walked along the lake trail near our home.
My firstborn had just headed out for his first experience at overnight church camp. The protective mom in me was nervous, but the girl-who-loved-camp in me as excited. I remembered how REAL God had felt to me at church camp when I was a youngster, and I longed for Luke to encounter His Heavenly Father in a new way while he was far from home.
As I walked along the tree-lined path at sunrise, I asked God to meet Luke at camp in a way that was meaningful to an eight-year-old boy. Then, I pleaded like I had so many times since my son’s birth, “Please, Father, may Luke live as your BELOVED DISCIPLE. I want him to see himself as YOUR FAVORITE all the days of his life!” (Don’t you love how we ALL get to be God’s favorite?). The moment I said Amen, I glanced toward the sky. There, hanging right above my head was a tree with a branch stretched over the trail like a canopy. And on that branch was a cluster of green leaves shaped into a perfect heart.
I stopped walking and stared at the unusual sight. Though I’d walked that trail dozens of times, I’d never once noticed the heart-shaped leaves. (And though I’ve walked that trail countless times since, I’ve never seen that cluster of leaves again). It was as if, in response to my prayer, God whispered, “YES! I hear your prayer. That’s My heart’s desire, too.” Not surprisingly, I’ve repeated that prayer for every one of my five children over the course of time. So now and then when my eldest son shines with a Christ confidence that rises up from somewhere deep within his self-conscious tween soul, I smile. I picture a tall tree with a leaf-shaped heart dangling from its lanky limbs. Then I gently thank the Lord for his unmerited faithfulness to our family tree.
Today’s Treasure:I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. –John 15:5