I came across this video of Andrew Peterson’s song, “Planting Trees” on a friends blog this morning. I don’t know how long this video has been around but it was a first time viewing for me and I was drawn in to the beauty of the analogy.
I look out my windows this early morning to fall beauty all around. The focus at this time of year is on the trees…the colors, the falling leaves.
We have lived here on this property for just over 13 years and its been many years now of re-doing, re-building and re-planting. And I feel a twinge of quilt as I remember in our early years here being just a tad frustrated at my hardworking husband, a lover of trees, as he would spend time on his tree projects. Other short term needs seemed more important at the time such as a curtain rod I was needing hung..you know ladies, those kinds of things. We would tease him and roll our eyes on occasion as he would talk about how he envisioned things to one day be. What trees he would like to plant here and there.
Shawn would often walk down along the creek that borders our property and dig up little saplings that had started to grow in places where they would never flourish. Then he would gently move them from one spot to another, put a protective plastic wrap around the base to protect from any little critters, and then faithfully haul buckets of water from the creek until they had set roots down deep enough to keep themselves growing on their own.
I remember grumblings from our “bucket brigade” of kids when he planted the flowering pear tears all the way up the lane..all 10 of them. I actually think there were more than that to begin with but we lost a few, I don’t remember but I am sure that if you asked he could tell you. : )
I write this on the morning of Senior Night for our oldest son, Johnathon. This will be the last night for him to play a home football game at Fairfield so maybe this is what has gotten me all nostalgic, thinking trees.
As I look out over the beauty of many of our now grown trees I am struck by how accurate the anology of this song really is. The early years of tender nurturing… the roots starting to go deeper and deeper. The storms that came through from time to time, sometimes almost killing the tree. One such tree is one of thoseBradfordpears right along the lane. It is still growing, but will never have the shape it did before, and I am now thankful that we never found the time to cut it down.
One of my “trees” is now almost full grown, and even in this week of preparing for the end of this football era for him, God has given me unique opportunities to observe the growth. To see the beauty of his unique color, the scars in the bark that testify to the fact that he is a walking miracle.
Another of my “trees” is now taller than both Shawn and I. He is not the same kind of tree as his older brother and his leaves will fall differently. A couple of my “trees” are in those middle years, still sinking the roots down in, looking for their own source of nourishment and water. And our girls, firmly planted, new growth..new beauty.
I am reminded that our family is at another crossroad. New transplants soon to be arriving. Little shoots that started to grow in an area where they would probably not survive. God is tenderly picking them up and it will be our job to love, nurture and protect. To pick good “growing spots” for them. And each of us will be part of that “bucket brigade”…to water. Yes, lots of water.
It would be ridiculous of me to end this post without a special thanks to my husband. For his vision, his patience, his tender strength, even in the uprooting. His gentleness in pruning, his appreciation of the fruit.
I am so thankful to be em”barking” : ) on this new tree planting with you. Thank you for 19 (now 20) years of helping “create our current landscape”.
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