Lessons from a Bradford Pear

Earlier this spring, our entire area was under a wind advisory. As I drove the kids to school, the evidence of this was abundant in the scattering of leaves, branches, and debris in yards and the roadway. In some places, young trees were completely uprooted, causing the kids to gape in wonder at Mother Nature's temper.

When I arrived at work and sat down at my desk, I looked out the window at the large Bradford Pear tree across the parking lot. A huge section of the front of tree was ripped away, a tiny portion still precariously connected at the very bottom. Too much to be removed without a chainsaw, this once-beautiful section of the tree lay still amid the deluge of wind and water.

When I went to get the mail, I passed the tree and decided to take a closer look. I noticed the bright inner core of the now-exposed trunk; it looked healthy and vibrant.

As I came a bit closer, I also noticed - quite sadly, I might add - that a nest was perched in the now despondent branches. I couldn't tell if there were any eggs in it due to the angle and proximity. I heard no tell-tale signs of young birds either. I hoped that the nest was an early one, already discarded by the parents, their nestlings long gone to continue the circle of life.

But what if that was not the case? What if nestled inside remained eggs, now likely to never hatch? I heard no warning cries as I approached, so I could safely assume the nest had been abandoned - whether it had been weeks ago or upon the wake of the storm's destruction.

When those birds built this home, the tree seemed strong, impervious. Most certainly, that tree was one of the largest Bradford Pears I have ever seen. I'd never have imagined I'd see it injured and torn, a full third of it stripped away.

And I imagine those birds, following their spring instincts, never imagined it would topple.

By all appearances, the tree looked perfect - tall and lush and stalwart, branch upon branch stacked up and reaching toward the heavens. A perfect place to plan, to build.

Or was it?

As I examined the now-mangled tree, I remembered a conversation with my father-in-law some years back. It was spring and the trees were in full bloom.

"I'd like to plant a Bradford Pear in our yard," I casually mentioned.

"Oh no, you don't want to do that. They are pretty and they grow quite well, but they are not strong. The first big storm will wipe it out, mark my words," he replied.What those birds could not see - what I could not see - was the reality behind that glorious foliage. What we can see does not often give us the whole picture, the entire story.

Appearances do not always represent the truth.

When the forces of wind and water came upon that tree - and violent ones at that -its true nature was revealed.

This made me ponder the things that I depend upon, the things that I am building my life upon. Can I trust them? Are they really as strong as I think?

Jesus told his disciples in Matthew 7:24-27 (The Message):

"These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit-but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.

"But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don't work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards."

I remember visiting Isle of Palms, South Carolina in 1989 in the wake of Hurricane Hugo. House upon house was reduced to mere rubble. Beautiful homes, glorious beach estates worth millions of dollars - gone in but a few hours.

What am I building my house upon?

While I believe wholeheartedly in planning for the future - in investing and saving, working hard, and even enjoying the fruit of my labors, is that my only focus?

(And if it is, I've been having quite a few branches stripped away as I watch this economy continue its scary plunge while oil prices continue their haphazard climb!)

What am I doing that matters beyond myself and my physical needs?

Do I pursue peace? Do I show love? Am I investing in others?

Am I showing God's love by my actions and not just feeding people empty words?

A few days later, they took down that Bradford Pear tree. I arrived at work, and it was completely gone. Not even a leaf lay upon the grass.

It was as if that tree was never there, save a now decomposing stump.

It comes down to this: those things, the stuff of life that we tend to pursue and desire and build upon? They aren't bad, folks, but you know what? That's not what it's all about either. The bottom line is that I have no more assurance that I will be here tomorrow than that pear tree did, no real certainty that "my nest" is safe, as those birds surely thought.

Luke 12:16-21 (NLT) says, "Then he [Jesus] told them a story: "A rich man had a fertile farm that produced fine crops. He said to himself, 'What should I do? I don't have room for all my crops.' Then he said, 'I know! I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I'll have room enough to store all my wheat and other goods. And I'll sit back and say to myself, "My friend, you have enough stored away for years to come. Now take it easy! Eat, drink, and be merry!"'

"But God said to him, 'You fool! You will die this very night. Then who will get everything you worked for?'

"Yes, a person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God."

We have no guarantees. We do not know what a day might bring.

I don't know about you, but I want to leave a legacy that will remain when the storms come (and they will!) and the winds blow (and they do!).

A harvest of love and peace and grace and hope.

"Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or-worse!-stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being." (Matthew 6:19-21, The Message)