TIME WITH TREES

As a child I spent my balmy Alabama summers hanging in trees. Without an invitation from anyone, I was drawn to trees like paperclips to a magnet. My parents rented this old, run-down house in a run-down neighborhood, but it had three magnificent climbing-trees in the backyard. Childhood heaven! I didn’t care if the kid next door didn’t want to play with me on a given day…I had my trees. Playing alone didn’t scare me.

Grasping hold of any low-hanging bough with my heel hooked over the top, I would deftly pull myself up onto the rugged appendage. Hand over hand, foot over foot; I would pull myself up and up until I ran out of comfort zone. Instinctively, I knew to test each branch for strength as I ascended, but descending, for some reason, wasn’t always as easy. One couldn’t always go back the way they had come, nevertheless, no adult came running out of the house to instruct me from the ground. I had to figure it out. Cool “seats” were discovered, imaginary rooms appeared for my amusement, and it was there, in my leafy mansion, where my love for nature was born.

Hands, feet, arms, legs, stretched and pulled and reached, working together seamlessly. Unbeknownst to me, I was building coordination, strong muscles, critical thinking, risk assessment and motor skills.

But to me, it was just fun to be free as a breeze exercising my imagination for hours upon hours. In fact, there was even enough time to get bored, oh no!

And yes, there was danger. Imagine the stunned expression on my face the day a branch broke, and the wind left my lungs. But the growth I experienced was worth the risks.

Children naturally climb whatever is at their disposal: barns, boulders, bridges, fences. Sadly, many children are kept inside by over-protective, germaphobic parents who squash the joy and liberty right out of childhood. Over-scheduled children and their parents are stretched to their limits. Daydreaming and pretending and thinking are replaced by the rat race.

As we grow from children to adults, we find no time for contemplative prayer or reflection of God’s goodness, beauty and truth. We are harried, because we don’t make solitude and quietness a priority. Jesus continues to offer to lead us beside still waters and restore our souls, but we pay no attention.

Psalm 23: 1-2, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul.”

Oh how I wish I had a magnificent climbing-tree in my backyard now…sigh.

-Joyce Hague

Walking on Water

Several years ago, I was happily teaching fourth grade at Grace Baptist Academy.  I loved fourth-grade children. I still love them. They are energetic, funny, and eager to learn.  But something I heard in a faculty devotional made me wonder if I should think about a change.  Sheree Haley was the elementary principal at that time, and early in the year she challenged all of us to “get out of the boat” and trust God. 

I kept the little boat she gave us as a reminder. Now and then I would think about what “getting out the boat” might mean for me. I had recently finished a master’s degree in English (Rhetoric and Writing, to be specific) and wondered if I ought to think about teaching high school English. I have never been a fast decision maker, so I waited to say anything to anyone else.

Through a number of circumstances, God made it clear that moving to high school was His plan for me. In many ways, it did feel like getting out of a boat and walking on water. Some people I loved advised against it, but I really knew it was God’s leading in my life.  I was reminded of all this on Sunday morning when Lynn Tweedie sang these words: “Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders.”  For me, the school “up the hill” seemed like a wilderness without borders—without the comfortable definition and routine I had enjoyed for eleven years.

But here’s what I want you to know: It was absolutely the right move. I wouldn’t go back.  And I am learning that God often leads where we think we might not want to go—until we obey and see that it was a great idea. The singers Phillips, Craig, and Dean have a song that says nearly the same thing: “I know it’s safe here on the shore, but freedom is worth dying for” (“Freedom of the Sea”). And (Can you stand another song reference?) Kris Delmhorst says, “Why should we not go where all maps fail?” (“Light of the Light”).

If “I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13), then I can go where He tells me to go and do whatever hard thing He has for me. You can, too. And you will almost certainly love it!

 

--Sherry Poff