Broken Trees and Green Leaves
"Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, who has made the Lord her hope and confidence. She will be like a tree planted by a stream, with roots that reach deep into the water. She will not fear when the heat comes, and her leaves will still be green. She will not be anxious in a year of drought and will never cease to yield fruit." // Jeremiah 17:7-8
My sweet Maxwell (the handsome hound) loves to hunt lizards in our backyard. We have a cluster of philodendrons (yes, I absolutely had to Google that) - big, green, leafy plants - in a corner of the yard, that serves as his little lizard jungle. These plants put up with a lot. He stands on them, jumps on them, and bites at them. They're super resilient, but sometimes his hunt gets particularly intense, and the poor trees can't take it.
I noticed a broken tree one day and just kept forgetting to put it back in the ground. A few weeks later, I walked outside and saw the most precious thing: a new leaf was sprouting from the broken tree.
At first, I was confused. How could there be new growth on a broken tree? But then I saw them: the roots. The tree may have been broken, but her roots were still in the right place.
"Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, who has made the Lord her hope and confidence. She will be like a tree planted by a stream, with roots that reach deep into the water. She will not fear when the heat comes, and her leaves will still be green. She will not be anxious in a year of drought and will never cease to yield fruit."
Brokenness is part of living in a broken world. Yes, there are lots of great times to be had, beautiful things to experience, and sweet days to be lived on this earth - but it's never going to be perfect, and that's ok because it's not our forever home. (Cue Carrie Underwood's Temporary Home.) Whether it's cancer or divorce or family drama or job loss or addiction or abuse or one of the infinite other issues we all face on this side of Heaven, no one is immune to brokenness.
But God's Word and His creation remind us that there can still be green leaves, growth, and fruit in brokenness, fire, and drought.
Like that sweet little tree, I often feel broken because of infertility. But as I've tried my best to keep my roots in the stream of Living Water, there has been so much sweet fruit along the way.
The fruit of friendship. I've found that friendships and community grow best in the soil of vulnerability. Asking for and receiving help (in the form of prayer, hugs, tears, meals, laughs, anything) grows and strengthens the bond between people. How sweet it is to let others love you in your brokenness, and to love them in theirs.
The fruit of gratitude. Brokenness and lack allow us to look at what we do have with fresh eyes. "In everything, give thanks" is easier said than done, but gratitude might just be the sweetest fruit of all.
The fruit of joy. Joy that comes from a special intimacy with Jesus. There is nothing like hardship to bring you into relationship with Jesus. In keeping with the tree metaphor, our brokenness can either come from outside attacks or from the Gardener's pruning shears. Either way, whether to replant us and repair us or to clean us up and help us grow, the Gardener is closest in a time of brokenness.
The fruit of eternity. The truth is, our lives - and especially our brokenness - are part of an infinite and eternal story that ultimately leads to complete healing, restoration, and redemption. The dark side of brokenness is that it can cause us to look inward and focus only on ourselves. But if we trust in the truth that we are part of something bigger, then we can taste the sweet fruit of peace and joy from a heart and mind set on eternity.
The fruit of compassion. Brokenness softens the heart like nothing else. It looks different for everyone, but it's something we all experience. Being able to empathize with others is very sweet fruit.
The fruit of wisdom. I am surrounded by so. many. moms. and so. many. pregnant. women. Yes, it's not always easy. And yes, I've cried my eyes out on the way home from baby showers. And yes, I lost it at church on Mother's Day this year. But my momma friends teach me so much. The way they love and raise their babies gives me insight into what it might look like to raise my own one day. Their sweet kiddos give me love and hugs and hope for the future. Watching and learning from these women is such a gift.
The fruit of rest. If there's one thing I've learned from my momma friends, it's that raising babies is typically done on little to no sleep. When the day comes for me to rock a newborn at all hours and work on growing the dark circles under my eyes, I will be beyond thrilled! But for now, I'm going to enjoy sleeping in and taking naps and coming and going as I please. That's part of the in everything, give thanks, right?!
The fruit of marriage. Oh, sweet marriage. It's my most favorite thing, behind Jesus. Infertility has given Jake and I the opportunity to fuse our souls together in a way we never could have before. Not only have we cried together and prayed together and grieved together, but we've traveled and laughed a lot and been spontaneous and been lazy.
There is always a gift to be found. No matter the brokenness, if your roots are in the right place, there will be green leaves, growth, and fruit.
This is in no way me suggesting that you put on a fake smile and pretend that brokenness is, like, totally the best thing ever! No. Dismissing feelings is never a good idea, but keeping things in perspective always is. And giving yourself space to grieve and cry and even whine a little while still being able to see the beauty and fruit all around is possible. Leaning in to Jesus - keeping our roots in the stream - allows us to fully experience brokenness and find the fruit that can only grow because of it.