A Change Would Do You Good

Brian teases me a lot about "toughing out" this marriage of 20+ years. He jokes about having invested so much time in training me that he can't possibly switch partners now. After all, a change would just be too much work. Isn't he lovely? Bless his heart. (My friend Scott laughs when I use the phrase "bless your heart." He says it's code for "you're an idiot.")

My hubby will no doubt snicker at this post, but heregoes...

I am a bit of an obsessive person. Always have been. When I'm "in the mode," you can't divert my attention. It's a lovely thing when there's work to be done, but it's not so lovely when we're trying to have fun. And I worry. About everything. It's my nature. My darling has put up with this behavior and worked around it for years, rolling his eyes or shaking his head at my "weirdness" now and then, but mostly just shrugging his shoulders and giving in to my silly obsessions because he always knows that it is pointless to argue with me.

It pains me to admit it, but I'm not reasonable when I'm obsessive.

Then came this dream of his. These horses. This barn. This ministry. Combine those things with his love of life, love of children, and his endless silliness and laughter...my personality flaws are just no match for these things. I have been plucked up out of my box and plunked down into a new one.

Case in point: Before we built the barn and started hosting large group gatherings, I would have worried myself sick over toddlers bustling about...what if someone got hurt? I would've had organized activities for little ones...they can't get bored OR dirty! I would have driven myself crazy thinking up games for teens...they can't be shy and uncomfortable, we have to help them "break the ice!" And adults...they'll need snacks, drinks, and OH MY...what if they walk into my house and see I'm not perfect?! The thought of all of these things would have sent my life into a momentary tailspin with my husband - Mr. Even, Mr. Steady, Mr. Go-With-The-Flow - bouncing wildly like the loose caboose of a roller coaster train.

But last evening, as the glorious warm spring day was ending and the sun was moving low into the sky (Brian just LOVES to tease me when I write this way), the horses were standing at their gates curiously watching craziness unfold. Two 4-H clubs were meeting together in our barn. It was filled to the brim with children, teens, and adults. Toddlers were scurrying up and down the aisles, in and out of barn doors. Little ones were getting dirty in the sand, kicking up dust and <*gasp*> climbing on the manure pile. Teens were grouped together chatting and snapping pics with their cell phones. Adults were talking and laughing, sharing stories and experiences. Everyone was enjoying their time here, and I was looking around at the crowd, realizing that I hadn't done ANYTHING to make this stuff happen! And you know what? I LOVE having a barn full of people! It's MAYHEM, and it's...yikes! IT'S FUN!

Okay, so maybe a little bit of what Brian teases me about is true. He has changed me. And he has worked long and hard to do it. Bless his heart. ;)

The Sheltering Tree

I sit at my window this morning, contemplating the day before me and all I have to do.  I’m a bit overwhelmed by the number of tasks on my list and all of the things pressing on my mind today.  I feel beaten down and tired.  Exhausted before the day has even begun.   

Quiet and alone I sit, silently speaking to God as I stare out my window.  I ask Him to teach me something; to give me strength to get up and move.  He answers.  He opens my eyes to the beauty of nature outside my window, and He asks me to turn my attention away from myself for just a moment.  He tells me to be still and just recognize the little things happening there before me. 

At once I notice the birds, flitting from tree to tree, and then, as if on cue, a bright red cardinal perches in my favorite tree.  The bird immediately lifts his head in song.  I watch him, transfixed by the upward tilt of his head, his neck stretched back as far as it will go, and his beak pulsing as he sings.  He seems to be straining with all of his might to sing loudly, as if willing the winds to carry his song of praise to the Creator above. 

I lean forward and crack my window open to listen, and as I do, I notice a pair of squirrels darting playfully up one side of the tree and back down the other.  I smile.  It occurs to me just how important this tree’s place is in nature.  Its limbs provide perches, its leaves shelter, its trunk a mix between playground and freeway… “But what is it you are trying to teach me, God?”

As I sit, transfixed by the birds and squirrels, God begins to speak to me through that tree.  He shows me, with the eye-opening awe that only silent moments can provide, a deeper meaning and purpose of this work of art in my front yard.  Roots planted firmly in solid ground.  Trunk strong and straight, willing and able to support the weight of heavy branches.  Branches, like arms, extended toward the heavens as if heralding the Mighty One who gives it life.  Some branches, at first glance, look bent and unsure.  On closer inspection, however, it is clear that they are reaching in any way possible toward the sun.  “Whatever it takes,” they seem to say to me.  “Whatever it takes to get a glimpse of His glorious light!” 

“Are you learning something?” God asks me.  I smile. 

This beautiful old tree, planted years ago by God himself, has been a source of comfort for me since we have lived here, but I’d never quite seen it in this light before.  God reminds me that my sheltering tree has been a gift for countless creatures.  It fulfills its duties without a single complaint.  It depends on God for its existence.  It receives minerals from the soil, and rain from the clouds.  It has been blown and bent by mighty winds, and pruned by strikes of lightening.  It supports children as they climb, and rocks them as they swing.  It provides refreshing shade in the summer, and glorious color in the fall.  It serves its purpose without faltering.  It is steadfast.  Unmovable.  Tested by the elements.  Protected by God. 

And as a testament to all it has seen and known, it stands…arms stretched high, in continual praise to its Master above.

We all need sheltering trees.