(to my three good friends from down the road who love our big leaf maple tree, and who always request this song when I’m playing piano for Sunday School at Wiser Lake Chapel)
I’ve got roots growing down to the water, I’ve got leaves growing up to the sunshine and the fruit that I bear is a sign of life in me, I am shade from the hot summer sundown, I am nest for the birds of the heaven, I’m becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be.
A strong young tree…. ~Ken Medema from “The Tree Song”
There is no place to hide here
from yourself and what you fear.
The meadowlark will break your heart
the magpie steal your breakfast
and once you’ve seen the buffalo graze on Sage Creek
they will rumble through your dreams forever.
Diane Weddington in Badlands III
It seems hopelessness may be all that thrives in this loneliest of places where wind chews at the rocks. But there is toughness and remarkable color and diversity too. Hope cannot die where the sunrise and sunset create a portrait of paradise for a few brief minutes twice each day.
Yet despite it all grass grows here, in patches and strips, pulling moisture from the thin topsoil veneer.
There is something reassuring about knowing I’m attached and nurtured by something bigger, stronger, more deeply rooted and permanent. There are times when I’m buffeted in the wind, beaten by the rain, burned by the hot sun, or crushed under the snow, yet I’m unbroken because of the foundation I’m connected to. I’m fed so I bear fruit that will nourish and sustain others. My thirst is quenched so I can grow taller to provide shade and shelter.
To produce fruit is to fulfill the purpose for which I was created. And so the vine can reach far beyond its root and trunk.