"Listen! A farmer went out to plant some seeds. As he scattered them across his field, some seeds fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate them. Other seeds fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The seeds sprouted quickly because the soil was shallow. but the plants soon wilted under the hot sun, and since they didn't have deep roots, they quickly died." Matthew 13:3-5
"Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock." Matthew 7:24
We travelled to Ottawa this weekend to visit my friend's family. The area has been hit by terrible weather within a few months: tornadoes, an ice storm, and ferocious dericho winds. Trees by the thousands bear the scars. Trees by the thousands have snapped off or been torn up from the ground. Piles of brush and broken branches are everywhere as people begin to clear the devastation away. It's going to take a long time for the area to recover.
Near one town we drove through, the hills looked like a great sweeping arm had brushed the land flat and everything that once stood tall and regal was left broken beyond repair. It was easy to tell which way the wind had come from because the tops of the flattened trees all pointed in the same direction.
We went to their church yesterday. The teaching was on the parable of the seeds.
As the pastor spoke, I got thinking about my trips to Algonquin park. I love the area and the bare granite which erupts from the earth. Pink and gray bluffs and cliffs hold up the sky. The lush forests dress them in ruffles and lace. Rounded, lichen covered outcroppings dip their toes in the many lakes and rivers in the area.
The iconic image of Algonquin is a lone pine on the stony shore of a lake. It is bent and twisted by the weather. Ancient, yet small because of how hard it has to work to get the nutrients it needs to live. As the pastor spoke about the seeds that died in shallow soil, I remembered a hike along a cliff overlooking a lake filled valley.
The pine trees closest to the abyss wrapped their roots around the rock, seeking miniscule cracks where grains of soil or scant moisture would collect. Like fingers, one tree's roots spread for dozens of feet, intertwined with the roots of another tree. Sometimes both would take advantage of a small crack in the granite, becoming one root as they worked their way into the stone.
There wasn't much protection on the cliff. There wasn't much in the way of soil or water. Trees, barely my height, could be hundreds of years old. They created a natural bonsai forest.
It takes very special circumstances to get a tree to grow on granite. Why one seed survives to maturity and another doesn't is far more of a biology lesson than I want to share this morning. Let's just say it takes an interrelationship of specific events to create the perfect environment for a seed to sprout. It takes just as many for the seed to reach the place where it will be able to cast its own seeds into the wind.
Some will get eaten by birds, others will sprout and shrivel under the sun. But the one that finds a capful of rich soil, who has the time for its roots to delve deep into the granite will persevere. Perhaps, in decades to come, another hiker will come along and marvel at the sight.
I was deeply saddened by the damage I saw in Ottawa, how so many trees growing in rich soil were unable to survive such a terrible onslaught of weather events. It serves as a reminder to let the roots of my faith delve deep into the Rock of my salvation for the spiritual nutrition I need to thrive.
I will never need to fear the storms, ever again. AMEN!
No comments:
Post a Comment