The wind and cold has been fierce lately, and the leaves that clung so resolutely to the trees a week ago now litter the roads and cover my deck. I am left to look at bare trees. My eyes fill with tears and my heart fills with peace and joy as I look at them.
To me a bare tree is a symbol, a reminder of how we should be. Even in the coldest, darkest time of the year; when all that once made others think the tree was beautiful has been stripped away; when the skeletal arms of the tree are exposed to the elements and the ridicule of man; the tree reaches upward still. It is only in winter we see what the tree was all along, something that constantly reaches, constantly strains for the heights.
Lord, thank you for the bare trees, and make me like them. Help me to ever reach toward thee both in times of warmth and times of cold.
No comments:
Post a Comment