Weathering the Storm

Blue sea glistens in the sunlight, restless. Rising winds push the water in to the shore, causing waves to roll then crash onto the rocks and sand. A small bluff rises above the beach, crowned with an oak, tall and strong.

The oak’s branches begin to wave, leaves dancing gently at first. The dance quickens, leaves become frantic as they are tossed by the uneven currents of air. Larger branches now move, creaking, bending with the growing storm.

Roots pushed deep into the rock and soil hold firm, anchoring the regal trunk and its branches strongly. This oak has weathered many storms, rooting deep, pushing through rock, burrowing deep to find water and nutrients.

Far from the beach, nestled into a protected cove beside a wide stream, stands a different tree. This one, too, stands tall and straight.

Suddenly the storm circles and bursts into the cove in gusts, beating against the branches and leaves. Unused to such treatment, the tree bends, limbs and trunk creaking in protest. Its roots never needed to go far to find water. They pushed so easily through the rich soil. Now those soft roots cannot hold the tall trunk firm as it is tossed back and forth.

The tree breaks, roots pulled from the soil, branches bent beyond recovery.

Wait! This sounds familiar. Jesus talked about two trees – oops – houses that were hit by storms. Well, we are being hit by storms right now, whether Covid-19, racial injustice, political uncertainty, visa denials, lockdown … or more internal storms. The winds are blowing, waves are raging, the ground beneath us is shifting. It’s highly likely storms will continue.

Here is what I’ve been learning:

Trees don’t need deep roots if there are no storms and water is abundant. But when the storm hits, it’s too late to send down roots. No. Storms reveal the root systems already in place.

What has Covid-19 revealed about my root system? about the foundation upon which I’ve built my house?