A broken tree does not heal. It's true - a tree does not replace wounded or broken fibers with new wood. Instead, the tree permits the broken part to die and the tree moves on, growing around the wound. The tree allows its wound to simply scar over and exist, like a flaw that is present but no longer acknowledged as actively significant.1
One year ago yesterday, my husband was undergoing brain surgery. I can look back in my heart and remember I was afraid. I can look back in my mind and remember I was hopeful. Most importantly, I can look at today and know that even though the road from that experience has been difficult, has been dark, has been depressing - I can look at today and know that today is the one that matters.
Once a tree is injured, the wound will eventually become encased in a "knot", and new growth will simply begin on the perimeter of the wound where the healthy tree tissue is situated. Wounded trees can be freely observed most anywhere here in Northern Wisconsin.1 The "knot" of the wound is just a part of the tree. A tree steadily continues growing around its wound and moves on from it over a period of time.
I look at my husband today, and I can see the faint scar that has formed over the four inch surgical incision that was made on the day of his brain surgery a year ago. I know that underneath, the physical malformation is still present. I know that a highly skilled and trustworthy surgeon applied a patch to passively prevent the anatomical defect from causing further damage as life goes on.
The knot in the tree is not a healed wound. It is a flaw, an imperfection, a part of the tree which essentially is not active - a scar. Yet, if the tree was able to recover properly with good support, whether natural or facilitated by a human, the existence of the knot will not cause more harm to the tree.1
Sometimes wounds occur accidentally to a tree, but there are also times when a tree is cut intentionally, or pruned. The pruning is done for the purpose of health or for artistry. According to the Washington State University Extension, pruning of fruit trees is important to establish a firm structure, and to provide light channels throughout the tree so that the tree's fruit can mature well. It is important that a knowledgeable arborist does the pruning because improper cuts are potentially life-ending to a tree, while the correct ones will ensure the best access to sunlight so that an optimum harvest of fruit will result.3
I see my husband in my memory of that day a year ago, in the hospital neurosurgery ICU - struggling to sit up, struggling to keep the world from spinning, struggling to tolerate the piercing invasive pain that had been inflicted with his own permission. What I remember most clearly, though, is the hope. The hope that sparked through the struggle, as we recognized a return of different physical aspects back to normal that had been suppressed by the compression of his brainstem for quite some time prior to the surgery. The hope that life was about to grow upward once again.
An arborist knows when and how and where to make pruning cuts on limbs, so that the tree has the best potential to close them with its natural defenses, and so that growth can continue beyond the wound, in the direction which the arborist deems best. Sometimes, however, the ensuing direction is unexpected, perhaps because the wound being cared for is not the only wound present1, or sometimes perhaps because the arborist is actually a designer... a visionary who sees the bigger picture... a creator who sees beauty in unusual places.
God is an arborist - a tree gardener, a planter, a grower, a caretaker. He sows and waters and feeds and prunes. He creates, protects, shapes, and transforms. He invites us to gaze at His majestic work with wonder and praise and quiet awe. His vocation is poetic and authoritative and precise. He creates beauty in paradox, nurturing our souls to grow by finding freedom through the very act of becoming captive to His desires, shaping our spirits to be uplifted higher than we could ever fathom simply by bowing down before Him, renewing our lives and our perspectives even as we allow our selfishness to die in recognition of the perfect authority of His plans.
I see in my mind my husband's view a year ago. A view colored by the beginnings of hope, colored by the perspective that life would be moving on in a sensible and predictable direction, colored by a limited understanding that failed to see that everything will be alright even when it's not all right. And suddenly, I know that what I am seeing in my memory of his outlook is actually a reflection of my own finite vision.
I don't know why God chooses to move our lives in directions that seem long and shadowy and wearying. I don't know why this is the place we have journeyed to in pursuit of His plan and His wisdom and His care. It is not a place I have ever envisioned or would have chosen on my own... but I do know that sovereign means God has supreme authority. I do know that His compassion and goodness are never-ending. I do know that nothing in the universe happens that is outside of His influence.
I can look at today and know that this is the day that matters. Our knots may help shape us. Our knots may be a portion of who we have become. They may remind us of what we have been through and may have influence over where we are going. But our knots do not define us. What defines us is decided by the One who defines us... the One who created us... the One who tends to our wounds and covers them with a part of Himself... the One who sees the beauty and the value of our knots and who makes good grow out from all around them. The One who sees the individual tree and also sees its place in the greater forest.
"All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all.
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all"2
One year ago yesterday, my husband was undergoing brain surgery. I can look back in my heart and remember I was afraid. I can look back in my mind and remember I was hopeful. Most importantly, I can look at today and know that even though the road from that experience has been difficult, has been dark, has been depressing - I can look at today and know that today is the one that matters.
Once a tree is injured, the wound will eventually become encased in a "knot", and new growth will simply begin on the perimeter of the wound where the healthy tree tissue is situated. Wounded trees can be freely observed most anywhere here in Northern Wisconsin.1 The "knot" of the wound is just a part of the tree. A tree steadily continues growing around its wound and moves on from it over a period of time.
A tree steadily continues growing
around its wound and moves on from it over a period of time.
I look at my husband today, and I can see the faint scar that has formed over the four inch surgical incision that was made on the day of his brain surgery a year ago. I know that underneath, the physical malformation is still present. I know that a highly skilled and trustworthy surgeon applied a patch to passively prevent the anatomical defect from causing further damage as life goes on.
The knot in the tree is not a healed wound. It is a flaw, an imperfection, a part of the tree which essentially is not active - a scar. Yet, if the tree was able to recover properly with good support, whether natural or facilitated by a human, the existence of the knot will not cause more harm to the tree.1
Sometimes wounds occur accidentally to a tree, but there are also times when a tree is cut intentionally, or pruned. The pruning is done for the purpose of health or for artistry. According to the Washington State University Extension, pruning of fruit trees is important to establish a firm structure, and to provide light channels throughout the tree so that the tree's fruit can mature well. It is important that a knowledgeable arborist does the pruning because improper cuts are potentially life-ending to a tree, while the correct ones will ensure the best access to sunlight so that an optimum harvest of fruit will result.3
The pruning is done for a purpose.
I see my husband in my memory of that day a year ago, in the hospital neurosurgery ICU - struggling to sit up, struggling to keep the world from spinning, struggling to tolerate the piercing invasive pain that had been inflicted with his own permission. What I remember most clearly, though, is the hope. The hope that sparked through the struggle, as we recognized a return of different physical aspects back to normal that had been suppressed by the compression of his brainstem for quite some time prior to the surgery. The hope that life was about to grow upward once again.
An arborist knows when and how and where to make pruning cuts on limbs, so that the tree has the best potential to close them with its natural defenses, and so that growth can continue beyond the wound, in the direction which the arborist deems best. Sometimes, however, the ensuing direction is unexpected, perhaps because the wound being cared for is not the only wound present1, or sometimes perhaps because the arborist is actually a designer... a visionary who sees the bigger picture... a creator who sees beauty in unusual places.
"You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us"3
God is an arborist - a tree gardener, a planter, a grower, a caretaker. He sows and waters and feeds and prunes. He creates, protects, shapes, and transforms. He invites us to gaze at His majestic work with wonder and praise and quiet awe. His vocation is poetic and authoritative and precise. He creates beauty in paradox, nurturing our souls to grow by finding freedom through the very act of becoming captive to His desires, shaping our spirits to be uplifted higher than we could ever fathom simply by bowing down before Him, renewing our lives and our perspectives even as we allow our selfishness to die in recognition of the perfect authority of His plans.
I see in my mind my husband's view a year ago. A view colored by the beginnings of hope, colored by the perspective that life would be moving on in a sensible and predictable direction, colored by a limited understanding that failed to see that everything will be alright even when it's not all right. And suddenly, I know that what I am seeing in my memory of his outlook is actually a reflection of my own finite vision.
“This is what the Sovereign Lord says:
I myself will take a shoot from the very top of a cedar and plant it;
I will break off a tender sprig from its topmost shoots
and plant it on a high and lofty mountain.
On the mountain heights of Israel I will plant it;
it will produce branches and bear fruit and become a splendid cedar.
Birds of every kind will nest in it;
they will find shelter in the shade of its branches.
All the trees of the forest will know that
I the Lord bring down the tall tree and make the low tree grow tall.
I dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish.
I the Lord have spoken, and I will do it.”
(Ezekiel 17:22-24 NIV)
I don't know why God chooses to move our lives in directions that seem long and shadowy and wearying. I don't know why this is the place we have journeyed to in pursuit of His plan and His wisdom and His care. It is not a place I have ever envisioned or would have chosen on my own... but I do know that sovereign means God has supreme authority. I do know that His compassion and goodness are never-ending. I do know that nothing in the universe happens that is outside of His influence.
"All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos
life is being found in You"3
I can look at today and know that this is the day that matters. Our knots may help shape us. Our knots may be a portion of who we have become. They may remind us of what we have been through and may have influence over where we are going. But our knots do not define us. What defines us is decided by the One who defines us... the One who created us... the One who tends to our wounds and covers them with a part of Himself... the One who sees the beauty and the value of our knots and who makes good grow out from all around them. The One who sees the individual tree and also sees its place in the greater forest.
"You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us"3
"But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever.
For what you have done
I will always praise you in the presence of your faithful people.
And I will hope in your name, for your name is good."
(Psalm 52:8-9 NIV)
I am like a tree fluorishing...
I trust in His love...
His love never fails...
I praise Him for all He has done...
I hope in His name...
for His name is GOOD.
1 Stringer, Larry A., and Jim R. LaBerge. "We Know Trees." How Do Trees Heal?Golden Rule Tree Service, 2012. Web. 04 Sept. 2014.
2 Gary, Moulton, and King Jacky. "Pruning Tree Fruit – The Basics." Pruning Tree Fruit. WSU Mount Vernon Research & Extension Unit, n.d. Web. 04 Sept. 2014.
3 Gungor. Beautiful Things. Brash Music, 2010. MP3.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OR7VOKQ0xJY
