I Think That I Shall Never See . . .

     Driving to work this morning I watched the morning sun illuminate leaves and thought, "God could've made only one type of tree, but He didn't."  His creative glory led to seasonal changes embedded in perenniel stability, balls of flame seated among the cool of evergreens. (And thank you to whoever came up with the name "evergreen:" it's a lovely consolation for serving as a backdrop for fall flare.)

     Some of us are evergreens: constant, stable, dependable - and, maybe even a little unexciting to the young and the restless. Others of us are project-oriented, and like hardwoods unfurling the intensity of spring green, we deepen our colors and sprint toward autumn fireworks before hibernating for the winter, or until a new project, job, mission, or calling presents itself.  True, the evergreens among us may be a little envious of the seasonals in the spring and fall, but certainly not in the winter, when we shine and keep the rest of the scenery from fading into a dull and colorless existence. B

     Each needed, each contributing to the landscape, the environment, shouting the glory of God across acres and acres for the world to see as a reminder of the Creator. The trees don't fight for centerstage but stand quietly blazing in their turn, serving as a backdrop then stepping up to fulfill their roles. Why should we do any less than the trees?

"Let the fields and everything in them be glad.

Then all of the trees in the forest will sing with joy."

Psalm 96:12

"For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace:

the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing,

and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."

Isaiah 55:12