Hundred-year-old Tree.

Hundred-year-old Tree.

So loud as you tumble, rumble to the floor of the woods, the muffling blanket of snow doesn’t keep little hands from pressing against little ears. And little and big hearts to beat so fast as cracking, snapping, crunching, thundering proudly you fall and make your snowy bed just where the woodsman planned.

Red and Yellow and Blue coats press in close together, waiting for a nod and trusted voice to say OK, come close and see.

Brave boots make trails through powder to look at dry and fragile branches that waved a thousand green and yellow flags to sun and stars until a year or two ago. But snapping off today they make a sword for cheerful pirates standing on the grand old trunk until they leap back off again, transformed Supers flying, and then bulldozers plowing through the snow. 

A call to come and see the stump and here’s the wedge to show the less adventuresome at home.   Now try to count the rings, each year lays down a story to be told on wooden platter.  They count it once and then again with help, a century of rings are found from heartwood out to crumbling bark.

Old Tree, a patient sentry for a hundred years. A quiet place to wait and see what comes your way. What did you see?

I’ve seen your strength from upper windows where I stand safe and dry.  And always I’m amazed that trees so tall can sway together like a dance, and bow and turn to one another wildly, but end the night with quiet nods before sleeping upright unperturbed.

And with your strength, the beauty.  I don't know the names of enough colors to do justice to rain drenched leaves in Autumn when the sun comes out and everything’s a brilliant glow with spot of fire in every drop on every leaf.

Arms reaching high for forty-thousand days. Hosanna! Elohim!

The days of praise have passed, and yet you still have gifts to give;  warmth and light for many weeks to come. 

And so we shake off wonder at your untold stories, and gather you up in arms and sleds, to stack and store with care at home.

Jehovah Jireh!

                                                        ~Sara~
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Hosanna is a cry of thanksgiving for salvation and at the same time a declaration of praise.
Elohim: Lord, Strong Creator.
Jehovah Jireh: The Lord who Provides (lit."sees" our need).

Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness;
     tremble before him, all the earth;
          yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved.
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
     and let them say among the nations, “The Lord reigns!”
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
     let the field exult, and everything in it!
Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy
     before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth.
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
     for his steadfast love endures forever!
                                              ~I Chronicles 16:29b-34~

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