Without trees, you’d be dead. Within minutes of your first breath, you’d get dizzy and nauseated and lose consciousness. Poisonous gas would overtake you and kill you. The whole human race would be extinct if it weren’t for trees.
Aren’t you thankful for them?
I love trees. They have always been my favorite part of the natural world. Now I know why. They keep me alive.
In early elementary grades, the scientific process of photosynthesis is introduced.
The concept is expanded in advanced science classes, but this is all you really need to know. Tree leaves suck up the lethal carbon dioxide that humans exhale. Sunlight turns the poison into life-giving oxygen that humans inhale.
Brilliant!
“The average human exhales about 2.3 pounds of carbon dioxide on an average day. Take this number and multiply by a population of 7 billion people, breathing away for 365.25 days per year, and you get an annual CO2 output of 2.94 billion tons.”*
Trees are hard workers. They carry out their God-given purpose with no problem. God bless them.
But beyond their scientific, ecological and atmospheric value, trees do something else—they preach the gospel.
Jesus hung on a tree, soaked up my deadly sin, poured out His light, and transferred His breath of life into me.
I call this photo-sin-thesis.
CO2 —> O2 Death —> Life It’s the great exchange. As we approach Holy Week, let’s take our stand beneath the cross of Jesus and breathe deep of the wonders of His redeeming love.
“Jesus offered Himself in exchange for everyone held captive by sin, to set them all free.” 1 Timothy 2:4-5
Lunch dishes were washed, dried and put in the cupboard. Dad went back to the fields. Mom took a basket of clothes out to the clothesline by the garden.
The summer afternoon stretched out before me, the pint-child, still too young for farm labor but old enough for solo adventures. Letting the porch screen door bang, I crossed the yard and took off for the back pasture. The first cutting of hay filled my head with rich, green fragrance. The soft buzz of insects in the tall grass sent vibrations into the warm air. I followed the trickle of the creek to the end of the pasture where my kingdom awaited.
A cottonwood tree had been struck by lightning in a storm years before, splitting it down the middle. Instead of tall branches reaching high into the heavens, the tree stretched long across the ground, offering a little girl a castle, a ship, or a leafy jungle.
The stream kept on feeding the roots of the fractured tree, so it continued to yield a thick canopy of leaves that gave me a cool place to hide, a safe place to be anything I wanted to be.
In July of 2023, PB and I trudged through pastures and climbed over fences to see if my tree was still there after all these years. Behold! Although it looked smaller to me than it did through my seven-year-old eyes, my heart thrilled at the sight. The path of the creek had changed, now flowing directly under the branches instead of around. A chorus of frogs welcomed me back.
I longed to tell my little farm-girl-self that someday she would experience a torrid storm that would strike like lightning and leave a scar. It would break her open and lay her flat. Mothers shouldn’t die of cancer.
Yet, I also wanted to tell her that streams of living water would rush to her roots, giving life despite the deep wound.
Fifty years later, I may not be able to stand perfectly tall and strong, but I am flourishing and my leaf does not wither.
“She is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season, and whose leaf does not wither.” Psalm 1:3
‘Tis the season for book lists. I’ll join the party.
To be honest, 2022 wasn’t a great reading year for me. Maybe it had something to do with a major life change (retirement), but I had a hard time focusing and concentrating. Maybe it was because I kept picking bad books. All I know is, I gave up on more books than ever before. I managed to plow through 28 books this year, which is about half of my usual. Here are my top five.
5. Surrender to Love, by David Benner My word for 2022 was “hesed”, the Hebrew word for love. I thought to myself, “I’m going to learn how to love. I’m going to become a more loving person. I’m going to get this love thing down.” Then I read Surrender to Love and everything shifted. My quest to become a better lover had to start with learning how to be a better receiver of the Father’s love. When I tried to imagine God thinking about me, I usually assumed He was somewhat frustrated and disappointed. I began contemplating the fact that God bursts with love for me, and that love swells in His heart when He thinks of me. I don’t know if I got any better at loving other people this year, but I did find a deeper appreciation for the length, width, depth and height of His love for humans, including me.
4. Reforesting Faith, by Matthew Sleeth Trees were a major theme for me this year. I read books about trees, I listened to podcasts about trees, I listened to sermons on trees. And I spent a lot of time walking in the woods. I read Matthew Sleeth’s book in January and thought about it all year. He points out, “Other than God and people, the Bible mentions trees more than any other living thing. There is a tree on the first page of Genesis, in the first psalm, on the first page of the New Testament, and on the last page of the Revelation. Every significant theological event in the Bible is marked by a tree.” His comparison of human lungs and tree roots still blows my mind.
3. Deeper, by Dane Ortlund Dane Ortlund’s book, Gentle and Lowly was my 2020 book of the year, so I was eager to read his next offering. It did not disappoint. He addresses the broad idea of what it means to grow in faith and mature in Christ. Then he gives practical advice on how to do that without becoming formulaic. I turned many of his ideas into prayers: “Lord, help me to trade in my snorkel and face mask for scuba gear that takes me down into the depths I’ve never peered into before.” (I can’t find my copy. If I lent it to you, could I please have it back?!) 🙂
2. How It Went, by Wendell Berry My absolute favorite fiction book series is Wendell Berry’s Port William novels. I read all of them in 2017 and it was pure joy. I’ve been thinking about re-reading the series, just because I miss the characters and Berry’s way of writing about them. So imagine my delight when I saw a new addition! I couldn’t push the “Buy Now” button fast enough. At 88 years old, Berry still has the ability to write words that make me ache and smile all at once.
1. The Songs of Jesus, by Tim Keller with Kathy Keller My 2022 book of the year is The Songs of Jesus: A Year of Daily Devotions in the Psalms. This book saved my life this year. I’ve never spent an entire year in one book of the Bible, but God knew this was exactly what I would need in 2022. The Psalms became my anchor, my refuge, my strength. Along with reading the short passage, reflection and prayer each day, I made notes and highlighted key words in my Illuminated Scripture Journal book. But mostly I prayed the psalms. They gave me words I didn’t have, expressed emotions I was afraid to feel, and taught me the language of praise.
As Dane Ortlund states in Deeper, “The Psalms are the one book in the Bible addressed to God. In it God takes us by the hand and gives us words to speak back to Him.” The Psalms did indeed take me deeper into the heart of God. They will continue to be my lifelong companions.
I discovered more resources that kept pouring the richness of the Psalms into my heart and mind.
In The Lord I Take Refuge podcast, by Dane Ortlund
Hidden Streams podcast, by Chad Bird
Treasury of David, Charles Spurgeon’s commentary on the Psalms
Music by The Corner Room, The Psalms Project, Poor Bishop Hooper and many others
“We cannot bypass the Psalms. They are God’s gift to train us in prayer that is comprehensive and honest. That’s it: open your Bibles to the book of Psalms and pray them — sequentially, regularly, faithfully, across a life-time. This is how most Christians for most of the Christian centuries have matured in prayer. Nothing fancy. Just do it.” — Eugene Peterson, Answering God
Here’s to a prosperous reading year in 2023! Sing some songs of Jesus in the year ahead!
Trees are a big deal in the Bible. In fact, apart from God and humans, trees are the most frequently mentioned living thing in the Holy Scriptures. You can hardly read one page without running into a tree of some kind. They are sneaky, though. If you aren’t looking for them, they are easy to miss.
Trees were the first gift given to the freshly created man and woman. “Then God said, ‘I give you every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.'” (Gen. 1:29) How kind of God to welcome them to the neighborhood with some fresh fruit.
Not only were the trees good for food, but they were also “pleasing to the eye.” (Gen. 2:9) Beauty was as important to the Creator as the bounty.
One of the most famous trees in the Bible is introduced in the beginning pages of the Word — the Tree of Life, planted by God Himself in the middle of Eden. It shows up again in the final pages of Revelation, as the central focus of the New Jerusalem. We are told this amazing tree will yield a crop of fruit every month and its leaves will heal the nations.
We could use some of that right now.
Until that great and glorious day, the closest thing we have to the biblical Tree of Life might be found in Bahrain, a small island nation off the northeast coast of Saudi Arabia. Out in the middle of an arid desert stands a 32 foot mesquite tree that flowers twice a year and has green leaves all year round. Scientists have been baffled for centuries by the aptly named “Tree of Life”, as it keeps growing despite any visible source of water. This mysterious tree is the only green plant for miles around.
Some believe this is the sight of the original Garden of Eden. At least, that’s how Bahrain’s tourism department is promoting their one and only attraction. Over 50,000 tourists visit the site each year. There are no vendors selling T-shirts that say, “I went to the Tree of Life and all I got was this lousy T-shirt”. But there are public restrooms and a security guard posted around the clock. You won’t find interactive videos or tour guides with a spiel, however there are rumors that an ice-cream truck might show up on weekends.
Due to vandalism in 2007, an iron fence now surrounds the tree. It’s too bad God didn’t put one of those up around that other tree in the Garden.
Travel blogger Anthony Middleton wrote succinctly about the sight of this lush tree in the Arabian Desert:
“It’s just you, a tree, and your imagination.”
In case a sight-seeing trip to Bahrain is not in your future, another Tree of Life is right here in America. At Disney World. It’s a fake. I think you can get T-shirts there.
Before God made the sun, moon and stars, He made trees.
Before God made birds and fish, He made trees.
Before God made livestock, wild animals and people, He made trees.
Trees were the first living things on the newly created earth.
We can learn a lot from our elders.
PB and I have a small square of woods — ash trees, pines, oaks and maples. We love walking in the woods, especially on beautiful fall days. We have to stick to the path, though, because the woods haven’t had much attention for a long while. There are dead trees that have fallen over, there are broken branches that hang precariously, but mostly there is undergrowth — brambles and thickets and stickers and thorns. It’s hard to walk through it without getting scratched and poked.
PB decided to do something about this problem. He hired a guy with a big tree-eating machine to clean up our little square of woods. In a matter of hours, all the brush was gobbled up. The transformation was remarkable.
Early the next morning, a doe and her twin fawns came through, looking bewildered. PB and I watched from the porch as the fawns suddenly kicked up their heels in a morning sunrise dance. They seemed to celebrate the wide open space, running without fear of thorns and prickers. I almost went out there and joined them in their new-found freedom.
Not all growth is good growth.
The wild, thorny undergrowth crept in and we barely noticed. Then one day, we took a walk with a three year old and she was entangled in briars and thistles. It was no fun. There were tears. We couldn’t dance.
That’s when we knew it was time to clear away the undergrowth.
Lord, I haven’t given my spirit enough attention. There are dead areas that need to be hauled out. There is my old enemy, pride, dangling precariously overhead. And there is undergrowth — bristly words that poke and hurt. Send Your Spirit through my heart and mow down all “that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles” (Hebrews 12:1)
When I was a young girl, I used to love the apple tree that was in the horse pasture by our house. It had a low hanging branch that made it easy to climb. I would take my Nancy Drew book, jump over the fence, and then hoist myself up to sit on a limb, resting my back against the trunk. Reading a book while sitting in a tree was magical.
These days, I might sit under a tree with a book, but my climbing days are over. Still, trees hold an allure for me. I’d take a walk in the woods over a stroll on the beach any day. (Unless it’s February — then a stroll on the beach can’t be beat.)
The opening song in the Hebrew book of prayers, Psalm 1, tells me to learn from the trees.
“…be like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither…” Ps. 1:3
There are some instructions on how to be this kind of tree:
Get planted in a good place
Be still to let living water saturate the roots
Pay attention to the seasons
Graciously share what develops
Stay refreshed and vibrant
So I’m asking myself some questions:
Where do I plant myself most days? In ungodly counsel and in the seat of mockers (Ps. 1:1), or in God’s Word, meditating day and night (Ps. 1:2)?
What am I soaking up? Fresh springs of living water from the Lord, or the lifeless stagnation of worldly advice?
Am I willing to accept seasons of dormancy and stillness, or do I constantly push for peak productivity?
During times of prosperity and growth, will I be generous and eager to share, or will I hoard the bounty for myself?
As I grow older, how will I keep myself from withering up and being blown away like chaff (Ps. 1:4)? Will I abide in the Vine, remaining in Him, bearing much fruit (John 15:5)?
A children’s Sunday school song runs through my mind every time I read Psalm 1.
I’m gonna be like a tree, planted by the water, Trusting in the Father to keep me strong. I’m gonna be like a tree, planted by the water, Trusting in the name of the Lord. The deeper the roots grow, the better the fruits grow, The blessings bloom out for all to see. The deeper the roots grow, the more my life shows, That Jesus is the Lord of me.
Integrity Kids Worship
What kind of tree will I be? With over 60,000 species in the world, there is plenty of room for variety.
I have no visions of becoming a tall pine or a stately oak or a majestic redwood. I would like to be an apple tree, with a low hanging branch, in a green pasture, inviting small ones to crawl up and sit a while with a book, munching on the sweet fruit of a life lived in Jesus.
a small drop of ink 