Jun 28 2011
I have this tree that is firmly rooted at the corner of the garage at my studio. It is really an awkward place for a tree as it is half-growing in the garage. I love trees, but truth be told, this is an ugly tree. I am sure it creates oxygen in the air as successfully as the pretty trees, but I find it bothersome. It is so bothersome that it garnered me a citation from the city of Minneapolis when it was overhanging the alley. So for the sake of the city and the longevity of the garage, I decided to cut it down. I hacked it off about 2 feet above the ground (the best I could do without damaging the garage). I assumed victory over the tree.
That was 2 summers ago. This ugly, ill-placed tree will not die. I have chopped off its limbs, dosed it with unmentionable poison, and yet it lives. It is determined to sprout new leaves; it is determined to grow while I do everything I can to kill it. Against all odds, it is determined to be the best tree it can be. I admire its tenacity, its sheer joy and purpose in being a tree. It is living the life it was created to live.
Do I live with such purpose? Do I find joy when things are not going my way? I would love to say yes, but I know that the answer is no. Philippians 4:4 says Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! I believe my tree is doing that in its own tree-ish way, and I wish I did it more in my own me-ish way. I want to rejoice always. Better yet, I pray that I can always rejoice. I will start by finding joy and not frustration when I park each day and see that tenacious tree still growing out of the garage.