Sometime
in the early morning hours of March 13, 1933, a tall and
majestic redwood tree suddenly came crashing to the ground.
After a careful examination of a cross-section of the tree
and a count of the growth rings, California forestry experts
declared that a life of more than twelve centuries had come
to an end.
Through the science of tree chronology, they were able
to piece together the history of this once mighty redwood.
According to their analysis, this tree had experienced
periods of both fatness and leanness, sometimes experiencing
rapid
growth; other times near stagnation. In one section, 112
rings occupied only eight
inches. The next 100 rings occupied 36 inches. In 1147
a "ring shake," possibly an earthquake,
had left stringy white rot in a crevice. But the tree
had been strong and the rot had been defeated.
In 1595, when Shakespeare was a young traveling player,
the tree suffered a serious burn, which allowed fungus
to grow beneath the scorched bark. But the tree overcame
the effects of the burn with new bark, and the fungus
eventually died off. For nearly 200 years thereafter,
the tree grew in peace. Then, because of
lightning strikes and Indian fires, the tree again faced
threats to its existence. A
serious burn occurred in 1787 and another in 1806. The
worst occurred in
1820 leaving a thirteen-foot scar. During this fire, the
roots on the north side of the tree were burned away -
and slowly the tree began to lean in that direction.
At the time of the 1820 burn, this beautiful redwood was
at its prime - 320 feet tall and
weighing over 500 tons. For over a century it struggled
to overcome the effects of the tragic event, but in the
end the wound never fully healed and the tree ultimately
was forced to yield to its weakening effects.
And so it was, on the morning of that late winter day,
the tree finally reached the point of critical balance.
Something, perhaps nothing more than a small bird landing
on a limb or a gust of wind swirling against its branches,
proved to be more than the tree could bear and it toppled
to the ground.
People also have their "tree rings,"
We have all had our good times with periods of exceptional
personal growth, and bad times with periods of exceptional
personal growth, and bad times with periods of stagnation.
Just as rot and fungus can afflict great trees, so it
is that people can be afflicted by the rot of unforgiveness
and bitterness. How often have those who appeared to be
spiritually strong and resolute suddenly fallen during
a seemingly minor storm, never to rise again?
The children of God, like great trees, must expect to
be afflicted from time to time. Just as tall trees catch
the full force of the wind and attract the worst kinds
of resentments, petty jealousies, and hurtful attacks.
Just as trees can be scorched by fires, so will believers
face many fiery testings and trials in this life. None
of us are immune to abuse, pain, or suffering.
The "rings" of a Christian reveal past
experiences. But they also reveal how well the believer
has overcome the effects of those experiences. In the
places where complete healing has taken place, the marks
of spiritual strength will be evident. But where persistent
struggling and spiritual weakness are evident, an unhealed
wound is undoubtedly lurking somewhere beneath the surface.
God has equipped us all with the ability to weather the
storms of life. The willingness to be strengthened by
our adversities and to forgive our persecutors is absolutely
necessary to a successful Christian walk. Frequently a
fallen child of God, broken and torn by the hardships
of life, can trace the root cause of his fall back to
a single event where lightning struck with all its ferocity.
Sometimes the tragic story clearly establishes the innocence
of the believer. More often, however, some sin of some
refusal to forgive is at the root. Yet, weather the
original wound was deserved or undeserved, the sad result
is the same -
spiritual weakening and eventual death. Over the years
the marks of spiritual leanness were evident - an inconsistent
prayer life, insincere worship, shallow commitment.
Eventually, the signs of a bitter spirit began to emerge.
To many around him, the fall was a surprise. But he knew
it was coming. He knew in his heart he was separated from
God, even though he managed to keep up the pretense for
a long time.
None of us can avoid the forest fires of life. Jesus Himself
said, "Offenses must come."
Life-rattling earthquakes will touch us all, regardless
of how spiritual we may be. In the world we shall all
face tribulations. But these negative forces do not have
to leave us broken and lost. It is vitally important that
we learn how to heal quickly and completely - or time
will eventually reveal every festering wound, every infected
spirit.
The spiritual health of an individual and a church is
dependant on the ability to heal. We need not fear attack;
we need only fear the failure to heal.
The great and glorious forest of the Church has become
littered with fallen, rotting trees. We have heard too
many stories about those whose wounds never healed. Many
ministers have not understood how to help people find
that place of inner healing. Hurting saints have often
been classified as rebellious saints, fit only to be cast
aside.
But Jesus sees these same people as wounded children.
Whereas we see only the
outward appearance, He looks right through the outward
and see the broken heart within.
It is true that some people are simply unwilling to be
healed, regardless of our best and most sincere efforts.
But others can be healed if we will be patient, ministering
the truth in love, and preparing the way for the healing
touch of the life-giving Spirit of God.
Let us remember that the anointing has been given, to:
Console those who mourn in Zion,
to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that
they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting
of the LORD, that He may be glorified.
Isaiah 61:3
