My house and land is bordered on three sides by 200 acres owned by an out-of-town family. For twenty-seven years we have been surrounded by a forest. This year, what we have always dreaded, happened. The owners had their land clear-cut. Now on the outskirts of our 40 acres is a thin line of trees, and many trees that stand alone.
When a storm comes through our area, my daddy always calls to check and make sure no damage occurs. Besides the Blizzard of 93, we have had no damage. But since the cutting, the last two big storms have knocked down large old trees, both times across our long dirt drive. One morning I had to drive down a small hill around a fallen tree on the driveway to get to work. A few stormy nights ago, Tucker called saying, “Bring me a chainsaw, I can’t get up the driveway.”
I pondered why the high winds were blowing over trees when it’s never happened before. Right or wrong, I have come to this conclusion. When there were 200 acres of trees standing side by side, together they were like a wall or barrier. But now standing alone, they lack protection from one another.
I think life is that way. When you try to go through life, preferring to handle it alone, you may bend and break. During the last few days before my mama passed, my parents’ life-long forest was so obvious. In the hospice room, there were days when additional chairs would be brought in for the circle of friends and family. A nurse once commented, “We have never had a patient with this many visitors.” My Daddy was well taken care of after her passing. His forest made sure of that.
“You can’t see the forest for the trees.”
My mama was my protection tree. When my tree began to wither, fear set in. I called my Aunt Kathy, and she arrived at the hospice, staying until the end. She has been there for me ever since. I have always kept things to myself and dealt with things alone. I just don’t want to burden others, or appear to be weak. You know the expression, “You can’t see the forest for the trees?” that was me. I had always been surrounded by my forest, but didn’t realize it until my time of need.
I came back to work, and my lesson plans for the month were complete. Friends brought meals and gave gifts (which at the time I thought it was strange to receive a gift when a parent dies, but oh how I cherish them now).
I have had many challenges over the past year, and it has enabled me to see how big my forest is. I have a forest of co-workers, church family, related family, and friends. There were times I hesitated to accept help, but as I attempted to decline help from my Uncle Lynn, he told me, “the polite thing to do is accept and say thank you.”
Don’t be th
e tree standing alone. Plant yourself in a forest. Don’t let pride prevent you from the blessings of others. Someday you may need their strength. In return, you are a part of their forest. Reach out to those who may be looking for a place to plant their roots.
—Donna
In uncertain times, I find myself like Tucker and want to know what is up ahead in my life. But when I look at 2 Samuel 22:29 I am reminded that God is my lamp, not my spotlight. “For You are my lamp, O LORD; And the LORD illumines my darkness.” I suppose it’s for many reasons He doesn’t want us to know what is up ahead. Maybe what we would see is scary and is not what we would have hoped. Then we would want to travel another route rather than the path He has chosen for us. But I think the main reason is so that we must rely on faith. By trusting in him, we acknowledge that His plan is best and He will prepare us. All we need is the lamp that guides us one step at a time.
When he was about three, he decided to swing lying on his stomach. At some point, he slid off head first and skinned his entire face! Still no crying!
ad he said, “I always wondered why Granny never hung Karla’s picture on the wall with the rest of the family.”