The live oaks in the south are some of my favorite trees.  Full of character and strength.  To see these giants in their full glory, gnarled branches spread out wide, their ever present peaceful green leaves gently dancing with the breeze, creeping moss and vines slowly meandering their way up their wide trunk, large enough for a person to disappear behind, with their tops reaching to the heavens.  To realize that this beautiful giant began as an acorn is mind blowing. This year I decided to try my hand at gardening.  I’ve been surprisingly enthralled with the whole process.  To plant a seed and watch it slowly grow into a plant, and then bear fruit to reproduce, is fascinating.  

As my parents celebrate their 54th wedding anniversary, it’s made me consider the miracle of marriage.  Two people building a life that is intricately interwoven to the point where you no longer know where one person stops.  My nephew is getting married this year, and it made me think of the differences in the two relationships.  My nephew and his fiance are getting ready to plant their acorn.  The first little green shoot will start to grow.  It will need constant care, protection, and nutritionment.  Everything will be new and most of it will be exciting.  Making decisions on what way they want to go, what they want their family to look like, the values and traditions that will be important to them.  The excitement is contagious, onlookers get swept up in all the potential and the beauty of new beginnings.  When the storms come that sapling will need extra special care and work to protect this vulnerable new life growing.  There will be good years that bring unprecedented growth, and storms that will roll through, bending, scarring, and reshaping the tree into its own unique creation.  As the years pass the tree will grow in strength and size.  Slowly but surely the storms become easier to bear.  The excitement of new life develops into a reliable rhythm.  The sapling is no longer in need of constant attention but now provides a sense of peace and comfort.  There’s a steadiness and hope of endurance.  The growth becomes less obvious as the tree takes on a life of its own.  Each branch, twist, scar, has a story of pain, faithfulness, joy and struggles.  People walking by now marvel at its beauty, grace, and are able to rest in its shade.  Small saplings take refuge in its strength.  The life that lives in and amongst it, thrives.

All of this growth is only possible because of what is happening below the surface.  After hurricane Sally, we got a good look at the root system on some of our trees.  Come to find out, it doesn’t matter how tall or wide or healthy a tree is, without a very deep root system, the storms will knock it over.  Being fully and completely rooted in Christ, makes the storms easier to bear.  The continuous nourishment and stability from an established root system is undoubtedly the most essential part of the tree.  When both individuals put forth the effort to dig into God’s Word and make Him the priority, the life that they create will be a legacy for years to come.  I’ve seen too many marriages taken down when the storms of life hit and the root system isn’t strong.  Some of these marriages are barely saplings that succumb to the winds and the rains.  Others are ones that have been growing for years and appear to be well established.  Unfortunately, when these giants fall the damage is widespread. The lives that have been resting and being supported are shattered.  The young saplings under it are left defenseless.  Possibly it was due to too much time being focused on the appearance of strength and stability.   Or maybe it was damage done to the roots that was never addressed.  Perhaps it was laziness, or apathy towards maintenance.  Either way the tree comes down.  

One thing I truly respect about my parents is their devotion to each other and to God.  They would be the first to tell you that they aren’t perfect.  But as they enter the golden years, their oak tree stands tall and strong.  The trunk isn’t straight, it’s been bent and twisted from years of storms.  There are scars visible from a distance.  And there’s some broken branches that have left gaping holes.  But it still reaches towards the heavens and declares the power and glory of God.  When Megan asked her Papa this morning what the secret to marriage is, being the man of few words he is, he responded, “God.”