The Little Tree that Could

Shane and I spent Labor Day ... well, laboring. Our front yard has been in desperate need of some life, ever since Georgia lost a "should have won" football game last year and Shane decided it was time to rip up all the "barely alive" bushes in our drought stricken yard. A project that needed to be done, but anger management left our yard with ... holes and dirt. So, we camped out at Lowes and began weeding, digging and planting this weekend.

A year or so ago, a friend of ours was going to throw away a potted Crepe Myrtle. He hadn't gotten around to planting the tree, and the dying leaves and roots coming out all over the pot made it clear the tree didn't have long. When we heard he was going to throw it out, Shane drove to his house to rescue the little tree from a premature death (maybe that cancels out all the plants I forgot to water over the years).

The truth was that Shane and I had no place in our yard at the time to plant the sick tree, but we couldn't kill it with out a chance. So, Shane dug a hole on our property line beside our house. We put the little guy in the ground, gave him some love and left him there to fight for life. Because it's on the side of our house that we don't frequent much, "the little tree that could" was left to it's own devices because we... well, ... forgot about it.

Over the last year, whenever we do visit that part of the unseen yard, we were so surprised and thrilled to see the tree was flourishing! It was healthy, seemingly happy, and growing BIG! This labor day, we decided it was time for the strong tree to move it's home. Now that we have more space in our front yard (let's hope Georgia doesn't lose much this season), the Crepe Myrtle had room to grow bigger in a place where all could enjoy his beauty!

After weeding, pulling up old roots, throwing out bricks and plastic bottles that were buried beneath the soil (thanks builders) and replacing the red clay with healthy soil and compost, we were ready to move the tree. Shane gingerly dug into the Earth in a wide circle around the tree. He dug deep, cutting the roots as he went. We both carried/drug the tree to it's new home and began planting it's broken roots.

"It looks sick" Shane commented.

"What do you mean?" I said without looking up from the planting.

"Look," he pointed. "The leaves are drooping already from the move."

"Oh, well, it's just gone through a trauma. It will be OK in the end."

I said this comment, really in attempts to make Shane feel better. But, the longer I looked at the tree, I became keenly aware of what a trauma it had just gone through. Having started off in a pot that was too small for his roots, the tree was moved and planted in a healthy spot. The tree grew and grew in the dirt that was big enough for his roots. Then, out of nowhere, these humans come and tear the soil and break the roots. Then drag it to a place that does not feel like home.

What the tree can't know, of course, is that we had only it's best interests in mind. We did not move the tree to be mean or hurtful. We were not trying to "teach it a lesson". There was a better spot for it to achieve it's full purpose and Shane and I moved the little life. I wish the tree could know that.

Recently, my colleagues and I were laid off from the hospital I worked for part time. We were happy there and comfortable in our planted spot. I felt like we were growing. Then all of sudden the powers that be came and chopped up our roots and left us to our own devices to find a place to replant. I was lucky that I had a hole in the world that was well fertilized, waiting for me to slide right in. It has been harder for others to find work and readjust.

Just like the tree, God plucks us from a place of comfort at times. We feel rejected, hurt, angry, confused and many more negative emotions. The danger is assuming it is "bad" just because it feels bad. When truly God intends for our move to be for good. God intends for you to be in a place to grow, flourish and have a spot to shine in His world. Just like the tree doesn't have the capability of understanding our intentions, we don't have the capability to always understand God's. Feeling the pain, allowing ourselves to not become stuck and focusing on the fact that God truly is good, will allow us to grow bigger and stronger in the place where we are planted. And sometimes we even have to chant, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" in order to keep moving.