The Lone Tree

A Tree. A Hike. A Perspective.
Publishing Edit: This post was previously unpublished. I wrote it back in early September 2023. As I’ve had time over the Christmas break to catch up on some things, I decided to go back and grab some older, unpublished posts and get them on the blog. This is the first of a few that are coming. Life looks a little different now even though it was only a few months ago, but by and large the underlying message/theme of this post still hold true.  God is gracious toward me.  I don’t deserve it and I certainly have room to grow as I continue to understand all of the ways He provides for me and my family, but I’m grateful for these moments of reflection. 

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On a recent trip to Maine, I went to Acadia National Park.  I had an opportunity to hike ‘Bee Hive’. It was one of the more strenuous hikes in the park and it involved climbing nearly 600’ in elevation while traversing the side of a mountain.  I’m making it sound more challenging than it really was… but the intensity of the actual hike isn’t the topic of this post.  It’s a tree.  A single tree. It stood out when I was about three-fourths of the way up the mountain side.

This tree was nestled in a small, relatively flat spot on the side of the rock face.  There wasn’t much else around it.  Its roots were warped and tangled through splits in the ground.  It was a stand alone.  Off in the distance, in other parts of the climb, there were plenty of trees.  They were well-planted, well-watered, and clearly much larger and more boisterous in their appearance.  Yet with this tree, I found my attention being drawn to it more readily than the others.  I stood here for a few minutes just looking at it.  I saw a bit of my own place in life fitting the same narrative as this tree.

Here are some observations I took in:

• There was a small indent around the root base.  I have to assume that when it rains, this little reservoir becomes filled with water.  In turn, that water nourishes the tree over the ensuing days; it’s a reservoir that sustains the tree in drier days.

• Though the temperature was fair when I was hiking, there is no cover for this tree.  It is exposed to sun, wind, rain, storms, snow, ice, and every other element (and potential adversity) a growing tree could face.

• Compared to the other trees that are more numerous further down the mountainside, this tree is smaller, appears to be ‘less than’ and on the whole, is likely regarded as being less fortuitous.

• It isn’t impressive by any means.  It is growing at an odd angle.  It has a unique (read as: abnormal) appearance toward the top.  There are obvious branches that are injured, some that are outright dead; yet they still cling to the trunk.

• It is a ‘bypass’ tree.  Everyone has to walk past this tree to continue on the trail up the mountain.  It has plenty of wear spots.  It is obvious where people continually use this tree to support themselves as they climb up and over the rock face.  Those spots of support are smoothed over; it is weird to feel.  The rough bark texture of the pine tree has been  essentially sanded down by peoples’ grip. (I feel like I could write an entire post about this one point, but I’ll refrain for now)

• The way the tree grows is ‘up and out’ toward the sky.  Instead of running straight up, where it would’ve had to compete with the adjacent rock face, it chases the daylight and grows away from the rock face.  (This is much like any other window plant you may try to grow; the leaves/flowers chase the sunlight.)

• Its ‘relative’ view of the surrounding landscape is higher than its neighbors further down the mountainside.  (This may be one of the favorite things I took notice of; there’s plenty to unpack with this one)

• While it may have been smaller than its neighbors, this tree is actually thriving in the place where it is planted.  Given all of the ‘adversity’ this tree faces, it has a purpose; it has a place.  It may not be be surrounded with anything else, but it is alive and is doing what God intended it to do: grow.

Now, obviously, I could take all of those observations and make a corollary to my own life.  Actually, most of those observations were only made because of my own station in life right now.  Yet, rather than unpack every single one of them, I want to focus on two.

The last two, in particular...

The relative view of the landscape is higher than the cluster of trees further down the mountainside.  I am confident in saying this: grief, trauma, suffering, adversity, even joy amidst these things… It affects perspective.  It changes the way that things are taken in and understood.  There is no longer a set of rose tinted glasses to see through, because quite frankly, those glasses tend to be a luxury not afforded in moments of solitude or suffering.  There’s another way to look at this too… perhaps walking through suffering, by God’s grace, has afforded some ability to gain a higher perspective on dealing with the everyday issues of life and, even still, the larger more impactful decisions as well. 

It’s not that you can’t gain a higher perspective via other ways in life, but I do think that God uses different circumstances for different people.  He saw fit to write the story of my life in this way, and as a result, the perspective He’s provided… I couldn’t have gotten it in any other way (read as: It was God’s providence to weave my life this way).  There is something really intimate about knowing that He has charted these days specifically for me in the way that He has.  Is it an easy road? No. It really isn’t. There are many days where I wake up and struggle to put my feet on the floor, but regardless of how ‘I feel’ about the day or about how things are going… the fact is, I have a duty and a responsibility to shepherd my girls well, to provide, to serve and to be obedient to what He’s got in front of me.  I’ve got personal goals to accomplish.  There are all kinds of drivers to get past those ‘feelings’ that only want to anchor me to the bed.  This earned perspective is one of the tangible graces that He has provided.  It helps to refocus my heart at times.  So often I am thrown off course by circumstances… but much like the earlier parts of the hike when I was entrenched in so many trees, it was hard to see where I was going and where the ‘prize’ was (the top of the mountain).  It wasn’t until I climbed higher (which took motion forward) and had a change in perspective that the journey through the thick growth made more sense.  It was the journey through that made me appreciate the gained perspective all the more.

The second takeaway was the fact that the lone tree was thriving where it took root and grew.  It certainly hasn’t had the easiest time.  It relied on cracks in the rock, on the Lord’s provision of rain, respite and protection and certainly the care of those who passed by it on the way up.  If it had been trampled in the early growth, it certainly wouldn’t have made it.  It did make it though.  It has a purpose.  It is part of what God saw fit to be in His creation.  It is a beautiful reminder that even in the hard places, He can still give life.  He still has a place for it.  Even though it’s a lone tree, it’s growing in the exact way it’s supposed to.

Much like that tree, there are so many ways that I feel alone.  My thoughts, my emotions, my household… I am alone in those places more often than not.  Even still, in those moments of being alone, I am tended to and cared for.  I’m not forgotten.  I still get rain, respite and protection.  God is gracious to provide in ways that I can only know because of being that ‘lone tree’.  Some of that perspective gained lends to being able to see ways that God provides that I would otherwise not know.  It’s taken a hot minute for me to get my feet under me.  I still struggle deeply at times, but wow, God is continuously showing His graciousness toward me and allowing me to still grow.  It’s hard fought growth, but it’s present all the same.

I really treasured my time in Maine.  With some good music as a soundtrack, the good company of a couple of friends and adventuring through the beauty of God’s creation… it was a much needed refreshment to my soul.  I’m grateful for the time and ability to be able to do things like that.  God’s not done writing this story that is my life.  He’s continuing to water and grow this life into something rich… and for that I’m grateful.