The Tree of Life
A tree is dependent on the resources within its reach. It absorbs nutrients from the sun and rain, consuming carbon dioxide, in turn releasing oxygen back to the earth while offering shade to those who seek it. Without nutrients, the tree will not flourish. If the storms are too intense or too frequent, then the tree is at risk for imminent doom. So are you, if you neglect the condition of your soul, or you refuse to seek shelter in the storm.
Have you ever seen a tree that has been struck by lightning? Half the tree might be gone, leaving it to stand unbalanced with branches left splintered, its’ damaged bark exposed to the elements. The torn branches lie on the ground, convincing you that the tree may never recover. Do you stand back, dismayed at how this once magnificent tree is suddenly wounded, never to heal? What do you do with the aftermath? Would you gather the torn branches from the ground, using them as firewood for warmth in your shelter? It all depends on how you view the storm that passed and how you utilize the damage left in its wake.
Over time, you become accustomed to seeing the damaged tree, but season after season the tree quietly heals, revealing its’ newfound elegance. One early spring day you pass by and marvel at its’ growth; delighted that the cold dark winters did not claim this debilitated freak-of-nature. New branches sway gently in the breeze, sprouting waxy green leaves that reach upward to embrace the sun. The once raw bark has naturally restored itself while the remaining lacerations add to its’ grace. The tree now robust, stands tall under a cloudless blue sky. How did this tree survive, only to become stronger and more alluring than before?
The tree had no choice but to utilize its resources to heal. It knew how to use the earth, sun, air, and water; drawing from its roots, the nourishment it needed. From there, healing occurred, rooted in the same place where the lightning had split the tree in two.
The same is true for you, and for me no matter what storm you may encounter. For me, healing from abuse is the storm I faced. The healing process has been a daunting task, forcing me to peel away the layers, peeking into the crevices of my soul to repair the damage. I finally allowed myself to go inward, pulling out insightful reflection while receiving lots of therapy.
Just like the withered tree, my Spring finally arrived, thawing my mind and body from the bitter cold that covered my life a short time ago. I will continue to blossom as will you, giving motion to my branches that will sway in the breeze once more with a stronger foundation beneath me. I am better able to withstand the storms ahead now, for I am spring’s efflorescence and no longer are my roots entrenched in hollow ground.
Let the storm be the transformation that strengthens you. Refuse to be defined by the trauma you have endured.
Peace,
Stella Jacobs
Author of Hollow Ground