A few weeks ago, a dear friend showed up to drop her son off for a playdate. We were talking in the driveway when her eyes filled with tears. I asked if she'd like to come in for a cup of tea and a chat, and she accepted my invitation and told me her story.
My friend and her husband planted a little tree. It stands by the corner of their house next to the driveway and the front walk, so every time you go to or from the front door you pass it. The gutter has been leaking down onto the tree, and its thin branches became covered with ice, weighing it down like an elderly lady carrying a heavy pack. Fearing the worst, her husband asked her not to touch the tree - to let it be and bear its weight, trusting the strength of the boughs. This request was too much for my sweet friend to bear - her concern overrode his wishes.
She wrangled a huge long extension cord through the window and outside, plugging in the hair dryer to melt the offending heavy ice. She tried to prop up a giant ladder to install a tarp over the corner of the house, hoping to alleviate the incessant dripping water that threatened to suffocate and break the tree's branches. The ladder fell twice onto her head and once onto the family car, both of which she was grateful for because at least it did not hit their beloved tree. She gladly bore the brunt of the injury knowing the tree was unharmed.
Despite her efforts, during the rescue attempt, the ice-laden branch broke. Heartbroken and ashamed, she drove to my house knowing she had tried valiantly to protect it from harm and make things better, but had inadvertently caused more damage in the process. My heart broke for her, and I admired her concern and care for the poor tree.
Several days later, I was shocked to hear that a car lost control and careened into my friend's house, directly into the corner where their tree stands. The exterior was broken and shattered in places, and her family (who was home at the time of the accident) was shaken and scared. Their cherished tree was pinned directly under the offending car, surely flattened and damaged beyond repair.
Of course, in the aftermath of the incident, attention was paid to the family and house, as it should be. The tree was, well, simply not as important at that time. But here's the amazing thing...
When the vehicle was removed from the accident site, the tree simply popped back up to its original position - a little bent, slightly skewed, but standing.
That precious tree became my hero, my example, my inspiration. It was flexible, yet strong. It was slammed into, helplessly trapped under tons of metal, yet it rebounded and stood back up. It bore great weight and drooped and dragged on the ground, but it did not snap under its load. It bent and groaned and hung low, but this very act ensured its survival. Its resilience and flexibility under great pressure were not signs of weakness, but characteristics of enormous strength, trust, patience and fortitude. Had the branches stiffened and resisted, pushing against the weight, irreparable damage would have occurred -- the tree would have been hugely disfigured and quite possibly not survived. But it bore the trauma with grace and patience, somehow knowing that its very limbs were designed to carry the stress and burden of wintery days, trusting that this too shall pass.
Fixed yet flexible. Challenged yet calm.
Burdened yet capable. Damaged yet intact.
We all face wintery days. May we bear them with the graceful strength of a tree. Know that you are designed to withstand impact, bear the weight and to eventually, inevitably, feel the sun's warm rays melt away the ice that encases us.
Our roots run deep.
Trust and receive their wisdom and nourishment in challenging times.
They will not fail you.
