You probably overlooked her at first glance. She’s not not much to look at. Surrounded by her thriving, productive counterparts, she seems to be a lost cause.
You see, the caterpillars have stripped her of her leaves. While others around her remain untouched, her world has been devastated. She has but two choices: fight to overcome, or succumb to her injuries.
Her only hope? Strong roots.
A quick Google search told me that even the most caterpillar-ravaged tree can recover because of the energy stored in her roots.
This is also what grief looks like.
Surrounded by a world that seems to be thriving and productive, death has taken its toll on us. Barely a shell of who we once were, we might even believe we are a lost cause. How tempting it is to succumb to our injuries! Still alive, but not living.
While we didn’t have a choice about our current damaged condition, we do get to choose whether or not we fight to overcome the one who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy. The battle is long and fierce and lonely, and no other “tree” can fix us.
It’s not their job.
But if our roots are healthy, there is strength to be had from outside of ourselves. Not from those around us, but from a depth that cannot be destroyed by the worms of death and loss.
My research offered a few ways to help this resilient little tree: eliminate the pests, reduce her stress through deep watering, and avoid fertilizing until she has had a chance to rest. (Patience is key, though, because it could take a few seasons to see the fruit of my labor.)
This is sage advice for the valley-walker, as well.
When we are rooted and grounded in Christ, His power is able to sustain us and His grace promises to restore us. However, there will have to be elimination of many toxic things. Deep watering will be necessary in order to refresh the soul-thirst that strains our faith. Lastly, we must force ourselves to rest and heal before we try to scale the mountain on the other side of the valley.
Patiently cultivated with hope and grace, we will one day be surprised to find our lives blooming and growing again, capable of providing shade and rest to other valley-walkers.
Dear barren friend, I know your life may appear to be over and it seems as if the caterpillars have won, but deep beneath the surface, your root system has the resurrection power of Jesus Christ pumping His life into you.
Death doesn’t get the final say.
Our Creator is still in the business of tending gardens.