We have two, large, honey locust trees in our front yard. Over the years, some of the limbs have grown so long, they touched the roof of our car when we pulled onto the driveway. And the mass of limbs and leaves was so thick, the front lawn was covered in total shade. While the coolness and shade they provide is desirable in the middle of hot summer days, it was beginning to appear a little dark and cocoonish. Kind of like a child with unruly hair, so long, it covers his eyes.
We hired a skilled worker and his two assistants, who spent several hours climbing, thinning and cutting limbs. When they were done, I was surprised to discover, the trees literally stood several feet higher, with the weight of so many branches removed. And the coveted shade was still ample to temper the suns heat; but now small patches of light could filter through the leaves, and pool onto the grass below in an interesting patchwork. The leafy canopy swayed gently in the wind overhead. I imagined I felt the trees sigh with relief. And I sat on the porch swing, enjoying a new view of the trees and the mountains beyond.
An obvious analogy entered my mind. Throughout life we carry the weight of many burdens, brought on by sin or simply as a condition of our existence in this mortal world. And, just as the trees were not able to trim their own branches, we need our Savior, who is the master pruner, to remove this dead weight and discard it for us. When this happens, we are literally lifted higher, and we can sigh with relief. And the world around us also appears brighter and more beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment