My Climbing Tree

I have a tree and no it’s not the one in my front yard. It’s my, “Climbing Tree,” tucked away nicely in Riverside Park, it’s a big birch tree (and now that I’ve told you, you can’t go steal it, ok? Good.).

Perfect for climbing or sitting at its base and thinking. I’ve been finding myself there often lately. It’s a true statement to say the tree has seen me cry more than most people. It’s also seen me laugh a whole dang lot (my mind is kinda odd… if you didn’t already catch that little factoid).

Which brings me to my point. Suffering or pain or misunderstanding whatever vocabulary you’d like to chuck its way. And on top of it joy, ‘cause I think joy is misunderstood to mean happiness. But I don’t think joy means feeling happy, no; I don’t believe that by any stretch of the imagination.

What I mean is this: In the midst of misunderstanding the circumstances I am in complete understanding (and more than that, believing) the reality of the gospel. So in loss recognizing the vast gain found on the treasure of the gospel. Or in pain realizing the comfort found in the refuge of Jesus.

Joy is understanding your eternity is secure. Not as seeing your circumstances as painful. Oh though they might be more painful than you’ve ever felt before, and all the crushing weight of fear and the unknown come washing over you like some torrent of needles… Joy is planted in the heart so firmly so as to be the roots of faith.

But these lyrics ring true, “Soon shall close the earthly mission, swift shall pass thy pilgrim days, hope soon change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise.”

Friday's Ripped from the Journal: The Coming Storm

Everybody wants encouragement. I’m okay with making that sweeping generalization. In some capacity or another each one of us desires to be validated in what we’re doing or saying or where we’re going. In fact we’ve got terms specially designed to describe it when folks are “fishing for a compliment.”

But what about when encouragement comes and you’re not looking for it or fishing for it, what do you do then?

Isn’t it sweeter than those placid compliments you went digging for, to find encouragement in a place you didn’t expect? Or when the exact phrase you needed to hear is said, but you didn’t know you needed to hear it until it was said. Or even when there are no words at all, just a bird chirping or the rain falling or the rolling thunder – there’s encouragement in them too.

Maybe that’s the issue. We look to hard for encouragement, when the world around us is teaming with reasons to take heart and stand strong.

I’ve never thought about it like that. How would things change if instead of dying to find what I think I need I simply look at what is?

How would we be different?

If the bird can sing as the storm begins then perhaps a soul should still feel joy when the suffering starts.