The Ugly Tree

uglytree

Several years have passed, and I mark out each day with a silent wish. I look across the road and I see something that doesn’t belong. A tree that is hideous; a tree beyond any kind of symmetry, a tree that is very ugly. It’s beyond any kind of redemption. It is bad, and needs to be cut down. It is an eyesore.

When I see it, I’m aggravated. It never, ever really belongs. I dream of sneaking past the road and chopping it down. I want it to fall. Why should it blight my eyes? Why should I allow it to obstruct my view of the wonderful mountains? It is all wrong. (I rejoice at every wind-storm.)

But sometimes, God will speak to me through the “Ugly Tree.” There is a moment when we just might see something beyond the normal. It stands, because He made it so. Could not the Father have made it His “visual aid” just for me?

  • In my own personal sin and twistedness, could I be the spiritual version of “the ugly tree?”
  • Could the cross of Jesus be “the ugly tree?” The place where He absorbed all our sin?

Both seem to be relevant to me.

As I type this I’m looking across the road. Maybe it should stay as it reminds me of who I am and how much the cross means to me. Perhaps it should stay.

ybic, Bryan

 

cropped-christiangraffiti1-2

Pressed Roses

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33, ESV

This world is not our friend. And then we often face issues that create ugly things–  a fight with a spouse, poor choices, money problems– a lengthy list that seems that we’re always adding new entries. And as we each of us work through our tears, as we face sickness, loneliness, fear and misunderstanding.

In this world of woe and trouble, we discover that life is itself often brutal. Myself, I must deal with clinical depression, paranoia and physical pain. It is constant, a barrage of challenging things. Sometimes they swallow me up, and I lose my way.

I was thinking this morning, of a recent find in the pages of an old book– pressed rose petals! The book had been many years on the shelf. When I opened the book they I found them.  Typically, they are fairly well preserved. They still have color and shape. And most of all, they still have a fragrance.

I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do when this happens. Do I just “read” around them, or do I physically remove them? I almost feel that they are sacred or something. Do I find an old jar and store them? But no matter what I do, I always pause and think. Sometimes though, I can even remember the incident that they were given. An anniversary or a birthday maybe? Or sometimes they are given, “just because.”

Two distinct thoughts work in me. I look at the hard, hard things that I have had to process through my past, and present, and most likely, my future. I have to believe, from all that I have read and the preaching I have heard over the years that my pain gets turned into gold (or into roses!) This is exclusively a work of God. The second thought is a little bit harder to think through. But Jesus is the rose. He is the beauty and the fragrance of heaven come to earth.

There is an old fable kept by the believers of the first century; it was said that wherever Jesus stepped while on earth, roses would spring up in His footprints. This is only a legend of course, but that doesn’t mean that it is all false. Some of these stories have more truth in them than we think.

 

Coming to Him is such pleasant thing. It shouldn’t be an agonizing ordeal. It is not a painful or real sacrifice. After all, He is the rose. Roses are beautiful, they have a definite fragrance. There is a symmetry to them, and they are special, people will cultivate them for their beauty. Roses are never a hassle, for some reason we can never send or get too many.

“I am the rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.”

Songs 2:1, ESV

“A discipleship without flowers, probably isn’t worth having.”

cropped-christiangraffiti1 (2)

Groove: Good Grief, I’m an Author!

groove-book-coverGroove: Stories to Refresh The Way We Think and Feel about Our Mental Illnesses

Writing a book is not for me, but ‘contributing’ is do-able. I wrote six chapters for a book on Christians with a mental illness that has recently been published by CreateSpace and available right now through Amazon.com. The book is edited by Daphne Tarango.

I hope you can get a copy. It is a ‘ground breaking’ book for those who must deal with any mental illness in any capacity, and on any level. It’s very readable but surprisingly substantial. You can order it from Amazon.com for $3.99 for the Kindle edition. You can also obtain a paperback there as well.

It is a resource worth having. I personally will give you your money back if you aren’t satisfied. (That’s how much I believe in this book.)

Check it out on Amazon. Here’s the link:

http://www.amazon.com/Groove-Stories-Refresh-Mental-Illnesses-ebook/dp/B00R7V9GGE

 

bry-signat (1)

cropped-christiangraffiti1.jpg

Anchored to Him

anchored-hope

“Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. 19 This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.”

Hebrews 6:18-19, NLT

“Every thing that is done in the world is done by hope.”  ~Martin Luther

“To live without hope is to cease to live.”  ~Fyodor Dostoevsky

flourish14

We must never give up our hope. In some sense we must guard our tether that reaches into heaven. The writer of Hebrews develops this idea into an exhortation. We are linked by hope as an “anchor for our souls.”

Many years ago I signed on as a deckhand fishing ‘long line’ for halibut in the Gulf of Alaska. We had to fish for 24 hours straight, we couldn’t put the long line into the water until midnight, and then we went all out until midnight the next day. It was brutal and cold work.

The ship’s anchor was vital. We ‘holed up’ in a sheltered cove were we spent a day resting up near Kodiak Island. I was as green as they come; I dreamed that we would make a fortune the next day. I suppose I was a bit deluded.

Anchors come in a dozen shapes and sizes: some are for muddy bottoms, others for sand or rock. The anchor is the only tether or connection to the ocean floor. It allows the ship to be fixed in one spot temporarily. The open sea is always churning and tides and currents are almost always running; the wind is always a factor.

wave1Waves can get rather dangerous. There can be sense of riding a roll-coaster. I have been at the wheel when water broke over the cabin. I knew real fear. (Watch the movie, “The Perfect Storm.”)

Our own hope is a ‘strong’ and reliable anchor for our souls. Let’s face reality. The storms we are traversing through can be formidable. Sometimes, we honestly wonder if we are going to make it. Having a mental or physical illness gives more credence to the power of the wind and waves.

But we have an anchor; it holds and tethers us to that which is solid and eternal. Our hope is in Jesus; he is both eternal and tender, and ever-present for us. Our anchor holds.

aabryscript

 

flourish15