tender sprout and
stretched its frail branches.
before the eyes
of men -just like a root
from dry, parched desert ground.
It was not beautiful, desirable, or majestic.
The tree was despised by men who coveted greatness.
It was a
Charlie Brown tree…
a reject…laughable, to say the least.
We were ashamed and hid our fickle faces
from the humble tree that offered more than it seemed to own.
We tried our best to fell it, to whittle it down to our size, or destroy it.
But the tree stood tall.
It extended its shade when the sun beat down.
It lent its strength when we needed something to lean on.
It provided shelter when vicious storms pounded and railed against us.
Strong limbs held every burden brought to the tree and hung on its branches.
Most importantly, the tree pointed the way to Heaven to those whose eyes would see.
In its prime the tree was brought down;
fractured, and shattered, broken by the heavy weight of our
numerous burdens. Through no fault of its own, the tree had perished,
and with it, hope. For how could any good thing come from a dead, forsaken tree?
Many who witnessed its destruction sorrowfully turned their backs on the tree and wept.
They did not recognize this as God's perfect will; but life would return to the stricken tree,
and to those
rolled into the abyss
that dreadful, victorious day.
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
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