Today I notice the Weeping Cherry, and the beautiful intricacy of the ice on her limbs captures my attention.
|Ice on the Weeping Cherry
A swirling scaffolding of crystal sparkles in the late afternoon sun. It’s so beautiful that I almost forget how terrible this weight is for my Weeping Cherry’s fragile branches. She’s not meant for it.
When I think about what I’m meant for, and when I start to desire that shimmer of fame or importance to capture attention, I remember this: God made the Weeping Cherry for its own unique kind of blossom and rich green foliage. Let everything else melt off and free her to be what she was meant to be. She’ll bloom in time.
Why do you think this generation desires fame so very much?
My husband calls me over to the Weeping Cherry because a bright red cardinal hides within its branches. He flies away before I see him.
The gloom settles on the tree; it too chokes and freezes with each news release surrounding Penn State.
This isn’t going away. It shouldn’t.
I observe that little tree and notice the black bare center. Stripped down to the core, the tree offers nothing but its own naked shame.
You can’t wish the season away or ignore it. You can’t imagine your way out of it.
But you can hope.
I stand by the Weeping Cherry, and I think of all the ways shame turns glorious. We aren’t who we thought we were! The glorious revelation that we can’t ignore stands: sin is real. The ancient story stands!
We’ve fallen short of glory in a million ways: Those who tease Penn State students have failed in their mockery. Those who detach from the pain have failed in their denial. Those who move on have failed in their lack of compassion for victims who never, never move on. Those who insist they would have acted differently have failed in their self-righteousness.
Who hasn’t–when laid bare before a Holy God–failed?
The Weeping Cherry will stay in the stark reality of failure for all the time it takes. And, at just the right time, the sun will pierce through and send it blooming.
How glorious it will be!
Journal: How has Penn State’s scandal affected you?
It stops raining, and so we go outside just to take a look at things. The peony might just bloom this weekend.
And maybe the yellow iris.
|Yellow Iris Almost Here
The weeping cherry won’t bloom for us again this year, but if we part the leaves like a great green curtain, we can enter a secret chamber. The limbs embrace us, hanging low to the ground. I’m a grown woman, and yet I can’t resist burrowing deep within the tree. From the street, you’d just see a tree with blue garden shoes sticking out from below.
|Within the Weeping Cherry
Living with flair means going outside to just take a look and finding yourself inside a tree.
Journal: Do you have tree memories?