A TALE OF TWO TREES

While standing outside on a mild winter's day, I noticed something unusual. From my vantage point on our deck, I could see two trees. Though they are the same species, and they

appear to be roughly the same age, the two trees look very different from each other.

The tree across the street stands in a wide open space; it looks like this:

Meanwhile, the tree at the corner of my house looks like this:

(Excuse the discoloration; technological glitch of some sort.) *smile*

My first thought was to ponder how the tree across the street had made it into January with all its leaves intact. We live in a prairie province, where the snow arrived months ago. Hoar frost has also been here and gone several times. Still, the leaves on the tree across the street are as plentiful as they were in the blazing heat of August.

Meanwhile, the tree which overhangs the corner of my home is nearly naked. Part of a row of trees bordering our property line, this tree also shelters our garden shed. I was confused as to why the tree standing alone and open would fare best.

When I questioned my husband regarding what made the difference in the two trees, he responded with an uncertain question. "I dunno...the wind, maybe?"

The wind? These trees stand not more than 500 yards apart. They would be subject to the exact same weather conditions. Determined to find a satisfactory answer, I looked a few minutes longer. I soon realized my husband had been correct: it had everything to do with the wind!

Our region has two predominant winds: North and West. In this particular case, the damage - or lack thereof - is directly relates to the North winds. You see, the North side of the tree at the corner of our home faces our backyard, an alley, and a schoolyard. Meanwhile, directly North of the tree across the street is another residential property, bordered entirely by more trees - appropriately named a "wind row" in this part of the country. 

In an instant, I knew that I was the object of a gloriously illustrated life lesson. 

Those who face the winds of adversity alone endure the most damage. 

Observe those in your circle of influence. Think of three or more acquaintances who have endured the same storm: a miscarriage, a divorce, or the loss of a young child, perhaps. Maybe you know a group of people who were victims of job loss or who lost their homes to a natural disaster. 

How have they weathered the storm? Would you say the damage in each case was equal? I would venture to guess that some are more bitter than others. Some lost more sleep to worry, and it shows in their faces. 

Others prayed more, and surrounded themselves with friends to weather the storm. They sought out prayer partners and coffee dates to serve as their windbreak. As a result, they seem more "together." Isaiah 55:12 tells us that "...all the trees of the field will clap their hands." A person who has weathered storms well will have their praise - or their "leaves" - intact. 

Find your people. Take a risk, and open your heart to trust. Build a "wind row" around your heart, instead of a wall. Ensure that you won't be left stripped and unsightly when the winds of life blow cold.

To all who have ever been a part of my windbreak...thank you. I hope my life is a glorious reflection of love on display.

LIVING ON THE FRONT LINES

This year was the most unusual Remembrance Day I have ever witnessed. It was, to my recollection, the first time our family did not attend an official Remembrance Day ceremony together. Instead, I took our youngest child to church, were we observed the traditional moment of silence; the remainder of the family each observed the day independently.

I spent some time today thinking about how to present the subject of war to my 7-yr-old. He knows there were soldiers who died, but he has yet to see any videos or historical literature of the subject. Although I could easily turn on the TV and choose an appropriate show to share with him, I wondered if it would just seem like a movie to him. That's not how wars are fought today; it looks like a movie scene to our youngest generation.

So what do you say when your child asks if they will ever have to go to war? I have to be honest - my mind reels at the thought of my children ever being near an actual war zone. Yet, more importantly, we fight a war every day which we rarely talk about. It is a battle for our souls, our minds, our joy, and all things good and precious; we live on the front lines of a spiritual warfare every. single. day.

In any war, the first thing you must know is: Who is my enemy, and who is my ally? It is not so different in the war for our mind and soul. Besides Satan himself, I consider anyone an enemy who tries to sabotage my joy, my confidence, or my family. Allies are people who cheer for us, even when others would believe the worst of us. If you are unsure whether someone is for you, odds are very good they're not; true allies are vocal - not unlike parents on the sidelines of sporting events.

The next important thing to know in war is: What is my mission? I imagine in wars past the soldiers often questioned, "Why this hill?" Lives were lost claiming small pieces of land at a time; aren't we still like that today? We will risk a relationship to claim the small hill of being right. We will sacrifice our contentment for the prize of keeping up with our neighbor. Be careful which hills you choose to battle for; always consider the cost versus the reward.

If I were in a physical war, I would want to know what my weapons are. It is no different in the war for my well-being, or the war for my eternal life. Key weapons I have identified thus far are the promises of God, the power of prayer, the current of friendship, and the lantern of hope. Any one of these may get us through the day, but the combination is enough to carry us all the way to a victorious finish.

Perhaps the key question we can ask is: What am I fighting for? Our veterans fought for justice and liberty. Many wars today are about power and money. The war that is relevant to each of us, waged on our minds every day, is for eternity. There is no enemy attack where there is no prize to be gained. Rest assured that if you are feeling weary, battle-scarred and wounded, the enemy of your soul is trying to shift your focus to things of today so that you ignore all thoughts of eternity.

Show up to the front lines of your life today! Is your joy being robbed by fear, jealousy or bitterness? "Stand against the devil, and the devil will run from you." (James 4:7 NCV) Are you convinced that you don't have the strength to fight? "...And after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then..." Just stand. Your weapons - prayer, promises of God, friendship and hope - will serve you well if you do nothing but stand. Just show up.

Life is a battlefield, but there will be a winning side! I choose today to rebuke anything that would steal my peace. There will be days of loss and hardship, but the big picture says there's a big reward for just standing my ground. I'd love to have you standing beside me.

Please leave a comment below if I can pray for you today. None of us fight alone. That's the one beauty of a war zone.

Hugs,
Vicki

TIME FOR A CHANGE

"Nothing gold can stay," the poet says. It sounds depressing, but I don't believe that was his intention. Rather, this is a poetic way of stating a fact of life: it's all about seasons and change.

This poem has come to life for me in recent days, as harvest begins on the prairies. Fields covered with golden canola blossoms just weeks ago now stand in tones of burnt blonde, or lie swathed and waiting for pickup.

Beaches which were well-frequented and highly populated all summer, now looking more solitary in the evenings.

As if on cue, my mind and body recognize a new season and begin to change. Muscles, tense from a season of sitting at a desk, begin to relax with time in the lake/pool, bicycle rides and yoga ball stretches.

I have time to devote to memories and goals. Some of this is healing, while some of it just leaves the heart feeling raw. Similar to the harvested crop, I'm mostly ready to put the good parts to use and prep for a new season and a different product.

It's not awful, this fading of gold. I love the cooler mornings, the comfort of owning my skin, and the view in the rear-view mirror. The hiĺls and valleys made me stronger, the lonely stretches forced me to know myself better, and the seasons of color marked me with laugh lines and happy tears. The horizon is full of unknowns, but I'm thankful for that, too. I would spend too much energy dreading the hard days.

Golden canola blossoms turn into food products. Golden tansy flowers become a salve that soothes my aching feet. Gold coins turn into beverages shared with friends. Golden sunbeams turn into moonlight, cuddles and dreams.

Nothing gold can stay,
But when it fades away:
Oh the joy change brings
To those who choose to sing!

ROOM FULL OF RUNNERS

I awoke in the middle of the night from a dream which, while seemingly unrealistic, I knew I must share with you.

In my dream, I entered a gymnasium-style room full of runners. Each person in the room was wearing sneakers and stretching in preparation for an imminent run.

In the next scene of my dream, the runners were all seated, and I was addressing them as a group. I was encouraging each of them to find a person or a small group with whom they synchronized well; they were then asked to run together. As I was encouraging them to run the race well and see that no one was left behind, I woke - and I was actually chanting "Run together!" out loud.

In waking, it seems such a relevant message for all of us! Whatever your struggle is in life, find someone who is running the same track as you.

Do you find parenting small children exhausting? Find another couple or a play group you can join once a week for a time of sharing stories and feeling less alone in the battle. Are you struggling in your marriage? Find a counselor or a marriage mentor who can adjust your pace and help you conquer the track. Do you battle with mental health issues? Join a support group or seek out someone who is on the same journey.

When you seek your running partner, do not worry about the pace they are running or how seasoned they are. Perhaps some have many miles on you, or appear to be nearer to the finish line. Did you know that sometimes runners get "lapped"? This means, while they appear to be closer to the finish line, they've been passed or "lapped" by other runners on the track. Sometimes the people we assume have it all together are really struggling the most.

Each of us should find, and seek to be, a runner who will adjust their pace. The runner who gets the prize knows when to run at full speed and when to hold back. This is knowledge we need to share with each other. Let me share some examples:

Seasoned mothers in my life have certainly lent valued advice on when to have the hard discussions with my teenagers and when to stand back and let them learn. Marriage mentors have taught me to draw my boundaries carefully with my husband: what changes I can request, and what changes must be prompted by the Holy Spirit. Even in my career, I have learned from my professional mentor how to dress for the job I want - not the job I have; this advice has promoted me on more than one occasion. 

Each of us has something to contribute to another. Each of us has something to learn from another. In today's world, where loneliness and suicide are rampant, how important it is for us to find others running the same race! We must adjust our pace, link arms with each other, and run together! Ecclesiastes 4:9 (NLT) says it this way: "Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed."

That is our mandate: to help one another be successful. When someone partners with me in my personal success, it makes me feel loved and valued. Who wouldn't want to be that person for someone else?!

Is there some way I can help you run today, friend? Do you need someone to stretch you into a more confident version of you? Do you need someone to run beside you, in the form of a weekly coffee date or actual telephone call? Do you see me falling behind on my track, and have some words of wisdom to help me reach my goal? Leave a comment to let me know how we can run together! 

 

A LIFE HIDDEN

I glanced briefly out the large, west window of our living room as I sank into my recliner. For at least the third time in recent days, I noted the flash of blue in the tree at the edge of our lawn. I love that tree, though how it came to grow there is still a mystery.

I grabbed a book, but couldn't seem to concentrate. Reaching for my phone, I scanned social media for updates from friends. Still unable to concentrate, and frustrated by the seemingly ridiculous obsession with the mysterious blue in the tree outside, I rose to investigate.

 Stepping down from our front deck, our walkway is hemmed in by large day lilies. A gift from a dear coworker several years ago, these lilies have really been a miraculous display this summer, given the drought we have experienced. Making a special effort to step over the lilies carefully, I note another unusual splash of color in one of the plants. I pause, bend over and snap a photo.

There, nestled in the life-giving shade of the lily, is a delicate stem of bellflower. I am baffled as to its origin, as my husband and I took great care to uproot our flowerbeds last year, replanting only bulbous varieties. This little beauty, though, has taken root - and refuge - in a place so protected, it has become fully mature before being noticed. Smiling at the absurdity of being outsmarted by a plant, I continue to the tree that is my reason for venturing into the scorching temperatures.

Peering into the heart of the young tree while parting some close-knit branches, I am in awe of the beautiful shock of color in front of me! There, clinging to the trunk of this tree nobody planted, is another mysterious flower in fuĺl bloom. Hidden in plain sight, protected from the burn of the sun, roots shaded in the dry soil held together mostly by the secure frame of a cinder block. 

As is often the case, I find myself singing the lyrics of an old song:
       Hide me behind the cross
       Where my gains become as loss
       And only Your glory is in view
       Your power will be revealed
       The more that I am concealed
       Hide me behind the cross
       So the world sees only You.

I wonder if I could be this: a life hidden. Could I take shelter under His wings, unnoticed until I, too, have matured? Could I grow in grace and beauty, clinging to Him for shelter and support?

 John 15:5 reads,  “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." (NIV) 
This is perhaps the most visual demonstration I have witnessed of a life hidden, clinging...and thriving. I am instantly stricken by the similarities between these plants and the life of Jesus. You see, we cut that tree down. Twice. We hadn't planted it, so we assumed it was an alder bush. On its third year of persistence to grow, I encouraged my husband to let it be for the summer. 

Jesus also arrived in this world unrecognized. We read in John 1:11, "He came to that which was His own, but His own people did not receive Him." Because He wasn't conceived (or planted) by earthly design, Jesus wasn't immediately recognized for who He really was. They tried cutting Him down, even to the point of death.

On its third season, this tree was granted life. On the third day, Jesus rose to live again. In two seasons of life, this tree that nobody planted has sprung to such vibrant life that it has become a shelter for other living things, like birds and wildflowers. Two centuries after His resurrection, Jesus - unrecognized, cut down and then risen - has ascended to the heavens and become a place of refuge for wild hearts such as mine! I am the life hidden. In Him.

I realize now that despite all my best intentions, I may have been praying the wrong prayer. It is not for me to ask that the world see Christ in me; rather, I pray that they must look twice to see me, hidden in Him.

WORM WOUNDS

Each morning as we leave our home, I admire the beauty of our property. The huge, decades-old, leafy poplars that flank the east and south sides of our home are host to many songbirds who begin and end our days with joyful sounds.

On the western edge of our property, which is the street-facing side, are about 9 young saplings nobody planted. Really - nobody. When the first one sprung up out of the cinder block, we assumed it was an alder bush...so we weed-whacked it. Two years in a row. And then it began to grow for spite; the tree is now taller than I am, in the center of 8 mini-mysteries just like it.

As I behold our property, shrouded in shade, I am deeply grateful for divine favor. You see, we live in a prairie region which is currently enduring its second year of infestation with tent caterpillars. These worms are offensive to both the eyes and ears, and they devour trees. Well, not the trees exactly ... but all their leaves. Much of our neighborhood has been stripped bare by these pests.

Next door to us is an elementary school, where my kindergartener enjoys spending time on the playground equipment. Sitting there with him this weekend, I noticed the unusual condition of the schoolyard trees. 

My husband has taken great care to band our trees with carboard, duct tape and chainsaw oil. This has prevented the dreaded tent caterpillars from climbing and feasting on our trees; however, no such care has been given to the schoolyard poplars. Defenseless, they have become patchy with what I like to call "worm wounds."

"Worm wounds" are bald spots in a tree which testify to the evidence of pests being present. Sure, some branches are still leafy enough to house a home for a pair of hummingbirds or a family of robins. Other branches, though, are like a window to the heart of the tree - its trunk, which is clearly visible, exposed for temporary lack of the standard leafy veil.

That's the key. These worm wounds are, in fact, temporary. I witnessed these trees last July, stripped as naked as though it were mid-December. I also witnessed them blossom in spring, and I see their branches - even in their current state of duress - attempting to bud after each fresh rainfall.

I am humbled as I observe nature reflect my life. There are "worm wounds" in my story which seem to strip parts of me naked and raw with each season of newness and growth. They leave my core exposed: afraid that my past will thunder into my present, that the scorching rejection of yesteryear will char my very soul, and that I will never be complete in my purpose. What if I'm never more than blotched?

As clear as the call of the pigeon from the school rooftop, I hear it. The whisper to my soul from its Creator: "To every thing, there is a season." There is a time for feeling a little naked and on display; there is also a time the soul-sucking worms move on. The key is to keep bending with the breeze, soaking up the sun, and welcoming the rain.

The trees do not refuse the birds a nesting place simply because they are momentarily less bountiful. Rather, they allow the birds to build and turn those exposed areas into arenas for amplified, unfiltered music. Robins, hummingbirds, sparrows and finches - all project their voices to fill the world with song.

Oh, that my heart would do the same! Focus on the thriving branches of life! Become a shelter for others -  a strong, safe place from which to sing their songs. Unafraid of those who may injure hearts but cannot destroy the soul. Realizing that no season lasts forever, and those who sing with joy, are capable of eliminating any worms who attack. 

A MAN, HIS MOM AND MARRIAGE

Although I listen to a wide variety of music, my favorite types are Christian, Country and '80's music. Because my battle with depression mandates that I am careful what I feed my mind, I don't often listen to country music. For that reason, I had not heard Tim & Faith's new song "Speak To A Girl" until this week. Powerful!

SPEAK TO A GIRL

 

She don't give a damn 'bout your Benjamin Franklins, she wants Aretha

She don't really care how you're spending your money, it's all how you treat her

She just want a friend to be there when she opens her eyes in the morning

She wants you to say what you mean and mean everything that you're saying

 

'Cause that's how you talk to a woman, that's how you speak to a girl

That's how you get with the lady who's worth more than anything in your whole world

You better respect your Mama, respect the hell out of her

'Cause that's how you talk to a woman and that's how you speak to a girl

 

She don't give a damn 'bout your pride or the lies that you're hiding behind

She just wanna feel that you're real, that she's near to the man that's inside

She don't need to hear she's a queen on a throne, that she's more than amazing

She just wants you to say what you mean and to mean everything that you're saying

 

'Cause that's how you talk to a woman, that's how you speak to a girl

That's how you get with a lady who's worth more than anything in your whole world

You better respect your Mama, respect the hell out of her

 'Cause that's how you talk to a woman, that's how you speak to a girl

 

 

This song hit a nerve with me, because I have seen this for myself. How a man treats his mother is absolutely indicative of how he treats (or will treat) his lady. Although I knew this to be true, I did not understand the logic or the science behind it. From my personal experience as a mom of boys, I think it's linked to a mother's unconditional love. Especially during the rebellious teen years, a boy can get used to being able to say whatever he feels in the moment and knowing his mom will still love him the next morning.

 

What has surprised me in recent years is the shift. I hadn't actually realized what was happening until I heard the lyrics to this song, but I have observed it to be true: when a man's relationship with his mother changes, his relationship with his wife will also change. It does not matter if it is for better or for worse; whether he draws closer or more distant with his mom, he will do the same with his lady. If he does not feel free to speak his mind to his mother, he will not feel free to be truthful with his wife. They are directly linked.

Ladies, this means it is in your best interests to choose carefully. Be intentional about watching how your love interacts with his mother. Look for someone who remembers his mother's birthday, who honors her on Mother's Day, and who phones home regularly. Observe if he is able to have a respectful difference of opinion with her without disrupting the relationship. You are observing your own future.

Men, this is a call for integrity. Please don't show us one thing and become another. Don't impress us with flowers for your mom if you're going to follow that act with forgetting our birthdays and anniversaries. Don't tell your mother she's beautiful and then reject us for pornography. If the woman who has disciplined you can still be beautiful, the woman who cleans your underwear and sleeps with your night farts should be beautiful to you as well. Remember - beauty is more than physical attraction: it's who she is on the inside. If you have ceased to see her beauty, give her the same courtesy you gave your mom and move on.

It has been noted by mental health professionals that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. I wonder what the world would look like if those words were applied to every romantic relationship between a man and a lady. I wonder if more couples would identify an issue and care enough to break the cycle by seeking counselling. I wonder how many kids would be raised differently ... and how many boys of the next generation would know how to appropriately "Speak To A Girl." Because that's on us.