Felled like a Tree

 

Our default twenty-minute walk follows the perimeter of a stand of trees. Well, most of the trees have been logged now, after Storm Arwen snapped and felled them like foot soldiers at the Somme. Strewn with the detritus left behind, twigs and pine cones, broken branches and needles, the stretch of ground lies forgotten and forlorn, no longer offering shelter for the badgers and red squirrels, foxes and deer.  

The loggers left a thin ring of trees which had withstood last year’s blast.

Don and I headed out for a quick walk and chat after Pilates yesterday, and as we rounded the second line of the square, we saw that our path was blocked up ahead. Last week’s gales had brought another dozen or more of these majestic pines crashing to the ground. No doubt their roots had been disturbed and weakened with all the logging activity last year, and the shelter they’d benefited from previously was lopped, logged and hauled away. So the full force of the gale pushed them right over.

We started picking our way through the fallen trees, but turned back when it became too dense. And that’s when I caught my right foot down a gully or rabbit hole, hidden beneath long grass. I felt my foot twang as I, like those majestic trees, hit the ground.

Plenty of food for thought there, especially when I’m thinking about pilgrimage. My plans for the rest of the afternoon went out the window as I sat with iced foot raised above my heart. Boo. Tedious and tiresome rather than overly painful, but just enough for ‘the best laid plans tae gang agley’.

I spent time this morning reading some of those emails which are worthy but rarely read in the bustle of life. I spent more time than usual chatting to God. And listening. I missed my Bible study, but then had a visit from some of my Bible study chums this afternoon.

I don’t believe the trees were a trap God set to force me to sit back. But there is blessing in being set-aside. There is rich reward in lingering with the Lord rather than rushing through my set texts.

As my foot heals, I am aware of the blessing of a body that is dynamic and able to knit together again. I am grateful for the hope of eternity that is planted in our bodies and in our world.

How good is the God we adore.