The aged apple tree stretched toward the heavens with its thin, finger-like branches. It grew on the forest’s edge, surrounded by pine, oak, and hemlocks. It grew despite the season, quite obviously a happenstance, a surprise to its forest shadows.
My eye saw something new in this season of winter’s chill
The aged apple tree stretched toward the heavens with its thin, finger-like branches. It grew on the forest’s edge, surrounded by pine, oak, and hemlocks. It grew despite the season, quite obviously a happenstance, a surprise to its forest shadows, and fed the deer grazing below. Autumn shouted hoorah with a blaze of color before winter’s chill, and now, caught in the winter’s chill myself, my eye saw something new.
The sun shone bright on Chestnut Hill as I walked in the noon of the day. The apple tree, dwarfed by the towering pines, rested in the shade.
But, the sun — as only the sun can do — squeezed its radiant beams through the forest canopy and lit up the stark fingertips of the apple tree. There, on the ends of the sky-high branches, remained apples — fruit from another season, another time.
But the light gave them new life.
The light presented a new beauty in this season of rest.
I thought of my own winter season. Evidence of fruit and God’s faithfulness in my life abounds, yet at times the fruit seems to be leftover, rather than fresh and new.
Could it be that as I lift my hands to heaven like the limbs of the apple tree, the light of the One I love will break through the canopy of shadows and illuminate His beauty within me?
Could it be that the light of His presence makes all things new?
Could it be the light of His presence that makes all things beautiful in His time?
“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!” ~ Psalm 27:13-14
I’m so thankful for God’s faithfulness through all seasons of our lives. He is steadfast. Constant. A sure place when a canopy of shadows surrounds us and we question our purpose in the whole scheme of things.
A season of rest is full of His purpose. The winter of the soul is not to be feared as we reach high towards heaven with the sacrifice of praise. Roots grow deep. His grace upon grace strengthens us.
The light of His presence will break through every time
And fruit from another season, another time remains, clinging to its Maker through the winter season.
It may be hidden in the shadows, but once the light of His presence breaks through, evidence of the Spirit’s fruit in our lives is illuminated. It hasn’t gone anywhere.
It remains … waiting for spring.
******************************************************************
Thank you so much for stopping by. I would love for you to share what’s on your heart in the comments below. Scroll a little farther down, and you’ll see where you can leave your comments. Together, we can find the nearness of God in our darkest moments.
Sweet blessings to you,
