The Tualatin River
Warm sun shining down on the
brownish green, gently flowing Tualatin waters, sand in between my flip-flop
covered toes, and a damp patch of weedy grass beneath me; here in this space, I
experience the embrace of God as the breeze blows gentle, the birds sing, and
the sun reaches down from the heavens to kiss my winter white skin. Behind me
is a tree. I am not in its shade, but I do sit on its roots, roots that run
deep, looking for nutrients in the soil and water from the river and the sky.
On the surface, I see a tangled mess of roots, exposed, worn from the harsh
winter rains and flooding. Their covering is just thick enough to continue to maintain
life. The life of the tree gives life to others, as birds build nests in the
branches and squirrels scurry up and down looking for food and rest. The branches
are covered in new growth, tender leaves which have emerged from the dark of
dormancy. They give shade from the sun and shelter from the rain to those who
walk through the park.
I
wonder, “What about me? Am I like that tree?”
God answers with a
gentle whisper, “Indeed you are. Like the tree, you are awakening to the Light
I provide. You have withstood the wind, rain, and floods these past months.
Your strength lies in your grounding, in roots that grow deep into the rich
soil of my Word, of my Creation. It also is evident in your newfound ability to
be still, really still, and sit in my Presence. As you do this, you are
nourished and refreshed with my Living Waters, as my Peace and Grace wash over
you. In this space of stillness, your love for me grows, as does your love for
others. New growth is emerging on the tips of your branches as you trust Me to
lead you into the vast expanse of the sky, into new areas of ministry, into my
Church. Others will find shelter under your canopy or a place to rest on your
established branches.
But
you know, there are dead branches in there, too? Branches that no longer
produce life must be pruned. This is not done by Me alone. You join me in this
as we discern when to cut and when to leave the branch or the twig. The pruning
process, while painful, is also strategic and purposeful. For if I just went in
and started lopping off branches without a plan, you would go into shock and
not do what you were created to do. You would be paralyzed, stuck. That is not
my will. Instead, cuts will happen, because shame, pride, self-sufficiency and doubt
must be removed. As these fall to the ground, your soul will mend as new bark
and shoots emerge. Will you trust me to do this in My time and in My way? It is
a partnership as we are woven together, Created and Creator, intricately One as
you abide in Me. Will you trust and submit to My leadership, My Spirit’s
flowing in and through you, to produce healing and life, not only for you but also
for others?”
“God,
I have found you to be faithful over these past months (indeed, years), and I
will trust and submit to Your plans of growing and pruning me to become that
which You have created me to be. The gift you have given me to sit with others
and provide space, shelter, and rest in spiritual direction is beyond
comprehension. In this space, You work through me to quietly stir another’s spirit
to a growing awareness of Your Presence in their life. Watching your Spirit
flow through them as they sit silent, speak with tears, or draw with lines and
color is a holy privilege. My heart overflows with gratitude. Thank you for the
way you are equipping me through supervision to learn to step back and listen
to another’s heart, to be increasingly aware of feelings that are stirring in
me as they stir in a directee, and to sit with pain and hurt rather than try to
“fix it.” Great freedom is emerging in me as I learn to release that illusion
of control in life. But it’s a process, and I know I have yet to arrive at that
place of complete abandon to your Spirit’s working in and through me. Keep
moving me there, my sweet Jesus, keep moving me in that direction.
God,
I do not know what is ahead of me, but I trust you to light the way just enough
that I can grow into that space of eternity, and to prune off the dead branches
of my soul. A tension exists in abiding with You, my Creator, where wholeness
comes only after dead places are removed, and space is made for new life to
emerge. Help me to be content with the process, to rest in that tension, and to
embrace the mystery of You. I pray when others sit in my presence, may they
also experience Your Presence. May they also experience rest, shelter, and
peace. When they sit under my branches and listen to the streams of Living
Water flow gently by, may they be refreshed. May they hear Your tender words of
love and feel Your warm embrace as the sun shines on their face. God of Grace,
may we all be mindful and fully experience the goodness of You throughout the
moments of our days, and when we do, may we lift or faces to the Light and
praise your glorious Name. Amen”
