Made For Community

Look at this tree. It lies out here in a field near the route to my favorite nature trails by my house. It’s a sad sight, yes? I mean, it’s completely uprooted. Completely dead. The first time I saw it, I had to wonder what in the world killed the poor thing.

And I couldn’t help but contrast this arboreal corpse with the beautiful forest I walk through with the dog every day. I have to admit: it looks like the grim reaper has visited there, too. The lower half (or more) of most of the trees are just gray, ashy-looking branches extending all directions, branches that would probably easily snap if I tried to break them.

But the trees are still standing. Standing strong. What’s more, when you look at the very tops of the
trees, there is green. New growth sprouting out in response to the sunshine that reaches the tippy-tops up there.

When I was first exploring these new stomping grounds a year ago, I found myself relating to those trees. I suspect I’ve got some deadness underneath. But praise God, there is new growth on the surface. There are still deep roots reaching down where I'm planted to the water and nutrients that feed the verdancy at the top.

I do wonder at the uprooted tree, though. It had roots, too. It had sunshine and water and soil. Why did it fall? I have no idea, and I’ll probably never know. One fact, however, is not lost on me.

That tree was standing in the middle of a field, all alone. My living trees grow in a forest. In community.

I need community, folks. I definitely lean more toward the introversion end of the scale, but I am also learning how essential my “tribe” is to my life. I had a Facebook group of about ten friends who prayed me through the three years of my divorce. My BSF group, which usually changes every year, ended up having the same handful of women for those three years, also – most of whom had been through a divorce themselves . . . and I don’t for a moment think that was coincidence.

Last August, our teacher workdays started with a sort of mini worship/motivational retreat. Our first day, we began by standing up, socially distanced around the large room, and praying. With a background chorus of “Amens” and “Yes, Lords”, we each voiced our prayers for the school year, for our students, for each other, for the nation . . . and I suddenly realized how much I had missed sharing physical space with my Crestmont family. I hadn’t minded the quarantine that much, frankly, but breathing the air of the prayers with my people fed my spirit, which I hadn’t even realized was so ravenous.

They’re talking about mask mandates again. And yes, that’s discouraging. But I’ll gladly wear that mask if it keeps me in the company of those I love and keeps those I love safe. We are made in the image of a triune God. We are made for community.