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Reflection: |
Across
the street in Union Park stand a number of oak
trees: pin oaks, burr oaks, white oaks, red
oaks. Some are well over a hundred years old;
others were planted only last summer. Now, in
January, the towering and the tiny stand bare, a
testimony to the God-given ever-changing
seasons. A tree grows both up and down.
Unseen, its roots creep through the soil,
extending downward and outward to seek
nourishment and provide stability. Seen, the
branches reach through the air, sporting green
or red or brown leaves in season and playing
hotel and restaurant to numerous small
creatures, a glory of nature.
But then winter sweeps out of the northwest.
When the winds strip the forest bare, each tree
stands, its ice-clad branches clicking against
one another.
Like these oak trees, we grow both up and
down. We even use the term "grounding ourselves"
to mean gaining balance and stability, needed
whether we are towering or tiny. When we are
nourished, when we are stable, we can reach out
to other of God's creatures. And the reaching
out is a glory. |