The Amputee Tree

Before we bought our house on Warren Street, the city of Cary had sent tree trimming crews out to

free up lines that were being overtaken by the growth of various trees. One of those trees just happened to be growing, with very deep roots, in the yard that was to eventually be ours. It was one of the reasons I didn't want this house from the very beginning. "They might as well have cut the whole tree down," I said to myself. "That is one ugly tree." And it kept me from looking at the house for a couple of weeks. The picture you see here, shows the limbs just under the wires, and are a part of this once beautiful tree (picture snapped at dusk...a little dark). The void you see is carved out around the electrical wires. The lower limbs reach to the pictures left edge, just beneath the pole. Half the tree is simply gone...amputated.

Thank God I got over myself. The truth of the matter was that our backs were sort of up against that proverbial wall and we needed a place to set down roots of our own...ASAP.

The huge Fir tree stands so majestically along the yards border that faces the street, even though it has had one side very aggressively cut...all the way back to the trunk. This tree is waayyyy taller than our house, and the width is at least two Crossover Car lengths. It looks as if it should fall, from being too heavy on the side that wasn't touched by the very bad, aggressive sawing person. The limbs are so full and beautiful on the side no-one sees (unless they come for a visit). It's a very big amputee tree.

One day (after moving into the house that Mary rejected), a neighbor lady stopped by to visit. Why she felt it necessary to discuss our tree, is beyond me. But she did. "That is one ugly tree," she said. "I would cut it down, if it were mine," said the sweet lady. Now why did that make me fall in love with that damaged tree? Why did I think it was a thing of beauty from that moment on?

I began to spruce it up by adding a bench embellished with intricate design, just beneath it's lush

branches. The ivy that grows up it's trunk swayed so gently against the bench and created a place that beckons one to come sit for a bit. Thinking that possibly a nice mailbox just a few feet away, would make another great distraction, we switched from the mailbox on the house to one beside the road, and then decided to add a sweet smelling Jasmine bush to trail up a metal section of fence just at the back of the mailbox.
Planting an array of seasonal flowers (that are kinda dead at the moment) at the base of the mailbox, created nothing short of a miracle for trading pain for beauty. I don't even notice that half my tree is missing anymore.

Why am I telling this story? This tree, and my sweet neighbor, has taught me that beauty manifests itself in odd and peculiar ways. Just because one may have encountered danger and subsequent pain, in their life, does not mean they cannot be viewed as beautiful. It's what we add to our lives, that will distract the really ugly and not worth the effort of living part. Just because someone (maybe we did it to ourselves) has caused a lot of damage to us mentally and/or physically, does not constitute a reason for giving up. When we realize God has placed beauty all around us, it adds to our life, and our ugly diminishes greatly. And no-one notices the less-than-perfect because they smell the sweet fragrance of a soul tenderly cared for by a loving God. It makes them want to come sit for awhile beneath the shelter of the imperfect.

I don't know for certain, but I strongly suspect that most, if not all people, battle negativity in one form or another. Because we have been mistreated, because we have been misunderstood, because we are not popular, because we have lost our way, because we feel unloved (for whatever reason). We have been amputated. A piece of us has been taken, unwillingly. If you are one of those people, please know that God loves you so very much. You are worth everything to Him. He has planted a Jasmine Bush (as it were), by sending His Son to take our sorrows, and cover us with His fragrance.  He's positioned a bench, by giving us access to His Throne Room through prayer, so that we might come sit with Him for a bit. He has given us beauty for ashes.

Listening for my God's gentle voice, here you'll find me, sitting for a bit...in Mary's World.