The Fruit of this Tree

The Fruit From This Tree

This last week we went camping.  Now, recently we have bought a big camper for our family so I guess you could call it “glamping”.  I have put in my time as a tent camper, so I feel no shame about this.

 I have camped in the mountains un-showered for days cooking on my outdoor stove like a pioneer so I figure I can camp the way I want to.    Also, being able to pull into a campsite with minimal set up and break down is totally what I’m into at this point in my life.  With the chaos of kids and getting everyone going it’s just a good fit right now. 

That is actually why I’m here tonight:  This point in my life. 

This last year has been so very strange.  There have been wonderful things happen, no doubt, such as the birth of my fourth amazing child; this wonderful blessing that woke me up and reminded me who I am; a blessing God just plopped in my lap with no planning of my own!

Regardless of this amazing event, I’ve found myself struggling a bit.  I think we all have. 

Along with my usual struggles there have been worldwide and national stress seeping into my home and community like a disease.  It seems like it oozes through the weather stripping of our doors and seeps through the windowpanes leaving me standing in the yard, like a tired warrior trying to protect what is mine and keep it peaceful.  It gets a bit depressing and overwhelming sometimes. 

I have sat in this exact spot doing this exact same thing, typing out thoughts on my computer at a cluttered desk, countless times over the past months.

I end up with too much to say, too much to feel, that I ramble and chase my emotions cluttering page after page with my never-ending words. 

Nothing worth publishing though, because I publish for the joy of it and for the encouragement of others.  That is the game I’m in. When you’re feeling a bit discouraged yourself it’s hard to be encouraging or find joy in communicating it. 

I am not terribly funny, although I have my moments.  I’m not unusually helpful but I do write because I like to, and I can sometimes share something that helps me soothe hearts that ache the same way mine does.  Sometimes I can help distract you from things that pull and tug at you.  Sometimes I can do one of my favorite things and remind you that you are created by God, He is with you and everything is going to be ok.

In all the efforts I’ve been making to write I have been unfruitful in as far as doing something publishable or even measurable.  Something has happened, though that has made me realize I can sit here typing again. 

Like I said, I went camping.

 Camping soothes my soul.  The quiet of it, the peacefulness.  Sitting in God’s creation as your purpose and job for the day is so healing. 

Our camping trips don’t look like they used to, and some are more refreshing than others.  After all, getting 6 people out the door with clothes and food for a few days would be difficult if they were all adults and not, in fact, feral primate children.  There is hustle and bustle and the usual mammoth effort it always takes to make something come together in our house.  It’s worth it, though. 

This trip I sat under the awning of our camper on our “porch” away from home.  Baby Mack fell asleep on my squishy momma belly, snuggled up and snoring. 

I injured my knee in December and I’m still not one hundred percent back to normal, so hiking and biking were out for me, so I just sat.  I can think of a lot of worse things to be stuck with than rocking my sweet baby. 

I was set in front of some trees, swaying gently in the breeze and I was marveling at the blue of the sky.  It suddenly seemed like forever since I had seen sunshine.  I had been fiddling with my phone so I lay it down where it would have to be worth the effort to reach down and fetch it with a sleeping baby on me. 

I rocked back in my chair, and propped my feet up, just watching a green and rust colored cedar sway in the breeze and bask in the sunshine. 

I listened to the few birds chattering, excited in an almost spring afternoon, their singing a backdrop to the lapping of water on the lake and the wind, soft with the water, softly kneading the grass on the bank. 

The innerworkings of me sometimes feel like rusty metal parts that move by the force and motion of worn out, fraying ropes.  My mind is tired and foggy, and my body won’t do what I ask it to. 

I am slow, and awkward and sometimes the regular doing of life just seems to ache.  Momma life is so very rewarding but sometimes, like we all do, I get so tired. 

The sun and the sway of the trees is a balm for my aches and a lubricant for my hinges and joints that mostly feel aged and rusty. 

They begin to sway along with the trees, happy and smooth. 

The sun on my face wakes up my soul and warms up my thoughts. 

The fog begins to clear and the tension in my shoulders and neck seems to dissolve. 

Later on, in the day, with a clear head, my husband said something notable. 

Sometimes he will say something so wise or astute it rattles around in my head for a while and opens my eyes to something I did not see before.  He is unusually smart. 

We were talking about something completely different, about how we could not understand why some people make the choices they do, how we rationalize and justify things that are far from biblical.  Then my resident wise man said that we may not want to eat the fruit of that tree.  That we spend so much time working to make things fit that feel wrong or that we know from the Bible to be wrong.  We are nurturing something that we won’t like the fruit of and something that will never really satisfy us. 

Hmmm.

I love that analogy.  That we’re growing something. Even that we, as human beings, are rooted and growing, that we have seasons, blooms, and fruit.

You see, if I think of myself as a tree, I know my roots need to be in God’s word.  I know that in order to grow at all I need sun and water.  I know some seasons will be harsh and sometimes I won’t get the best of the weather and what I yield may be less or more than what I have before. 

These past few months have been harsh.  I’m worn and weathered and sometimes all of my resources are being used for survival, not to bloom.  I mean, pandemics?  Local record-breaking frozen temperatures and power outages?  Political unrest?  Drama on the news?

Some seasons are like that; harsh.  They beat us down and tear at our flesh and we sag and droop.  We wonder if we will ever be fruitful again. 

Some seasons we bud and bloom with great fanfare and bring forth heavy, beautiful fruit. 

But just because a season is harsh and our mind isn’t on the extra things, the frivolous things, the added bonuses most of us usually enjoy in life, doesn’t mean there isn’t joy and hope to be had. 

What are we feeding ourselves?  How are we nurturing ourselves?  Better yet, how has God nourished us during those rough seasons? 

Are we studying God’s word?  Are we praying, praising, worshipping, loving our neighbors?

Are we finding a way to stay on a righteous path regardless of circumstances out of our control?  Regardless of those that have different opinions than we do.

Do we fold up inside our own heads, consumed with the darkness and worry and just stop living? 

Are we being good stewards of our blessings?

These things are important even when our circumstances are less than desirable. 

When I begin to look at the past year, when things felt dark, I can see all the ways that God nourished us.  Oftentimes in the moment I could not see it.  I was simply trying to put one foot in front of the other.  In our house we had broken bones and trucks breaking down and job changes that were all stressful.  I wish I had bothered to look up and get out of my own thoughts for a while.  I wish I had gone camping more.  I guess now I know. 

When you are despairing and clinging to life, it’s hard to see things outside of your own grip.

Now, am I saying that this last year I was despairing or clinging to life?  No.  Absolutely not. 

I had some low moments and hard things, but I let my roots show.  They carried me through.  God will continue to nurture and care for us and carry us through. 

Sometimes, hindsight is the best view of our blessings.  When we’re worried about the future and what it may bring, we need only to look back and be reminded of all the ways God has continued to Love us and care for us.  That’s a big Faith strengthener for me. 

Currently, things seem to be looking up for the most part.  At least from my view people seem to be calming down, even though there are still plenty of things to be concerned about. 

Timely, I think, just as we’re about to start Spring?  All those little bright green sprouts I see when I look outside, emerging from the grey of rocky soil and dark tree trunks of winter, are little shouts of joy and hope. 

They’re there if you look for them, the filmy green on the branches that reach to the sky, millions of blooms ready to stretch to the heavens. 

It’s a new and hopeful season.  You just need to look around from time to time and stay rooted in what is right and good. 

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Phil. 4:8