Packing Up a Vacation…Punctuating a Week

Packing Up a Vacation…Punctuating a Week

“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” (Isaiah 55:12).


I was ready to come home. Sort of. Vacation is always a mixed bag of everything for me. Good, along with the bad, and a whole lot of other that rests in between.

I was tired going into our trip. I am even more tired coming out of it, and even now I can barely muster the strength for a complete thought. But there is a lingering thought…one final memory of our time in Gatlinburg, that I find worthy of my pen this night.

Trees.

I spent some time with them yesterday afternoon. A storm was brewing—the kind of storm that smells before it swells. I knew that my moments of outdoor devotion would be brief. I am not a storm girl. They frighten me, but yesterday I found my strength in their embrace. I grabbed my Bible and headed out to the deck of our mountain loft. The hot and humid of a June afternoon gave way to the cool and breeze of a better wind.

And through my cluttered and chaotic, God used his trees to teach me a few things about clutter free living. Things like…

Trees are rooted for the wind. Rarely, if never, do they break with the wind’s embrace.

Trees are the instruments of the wind. When the force of a wind caresses the limbs of its instrument, the melody is magical.

Trees rhythm with the wind. They don’t bobble and bumble their way through the song. They sway in step with their conductor.

Trees bend with the wind. For the touching forth and the falling back and the rebounding to center.

Trees are content to share the stage with the wind’s choice of companions. Rarely is its song a solo act.

Trees sing regardless of the wind. Each and every spring they burst onto the scene, budded for new life. Each and every fall, they take to their hiddenness with the barren embrace of a winter’s calling. In season and out, trees are steadfast and true. They do not worry about a spring’s budding or a fall’s stripping. They simply are. They trust God for the song.

Trees have longevity, despite the wind. They’ve been around for a long time. They were the pronounced goodness of a Father’s third day extravaganza. They will follow us all the way to heaven.

Trees submit to the wind. Not begrudgingly, but with the bending and blending of voices that sing in perfect song to the God who made them for his renown because…

Trees understand that their voice sings because of the wind. Left in stillness, their song remains as silent.

Trees and wind. A sometimes unwelcomed coupling.

To the novice—to those untrained in the melodies of creation—a tree’s rustling sounds like little more than the approach of an oncoming storm. But to me, a lover of creation and one in search of the sacred song, the rhythm of the trees sounds like the chorus of heaven.

And in the pause of a yesterday’s shower, I was reminded that there is song that exists apart from me. A song that is sung, sometimes, in spite of me. A song that will continue to sing, not because of me, but because of the One who commissioned its voice for such adoration.

Trees do not sing for man’s approval. They simply sing because our Father has given them the voice to praise. And on the eve of a vacation’s ending, I stepped away from my usual—my crazy and my chaos—to participate in the chorus of the unusual.

It is a song that never grows old. A song that always sings pure. A song that fully and most assuredly breathes grace. And even though I’m home now, if I listen closely…close my eyes and focus tightly…

I can hear the rustled melody of my Father’s kingdom chorus as I walk my way to sleep.

What a perfectly, satisfying way to pack up my vacation and to punctuate my week. And so I pray…

Thank you, Father, for the chorus of your creation that bursts onto my scene everyday and begs for my notice. Open my eyes to see the beauty of your handiwork. Open my ears to hear the chorus of you melody. Open my mouth to taste of your goodness. Open my senses to feel and to smell the splendor of your creative genius, and open my heart to receive the fullness your presence. And when I forget to sing your praises, Lord, stir your trees in my absence. Let all creation voice the truth of who you are. You, alone, are worthy of all my praise. Amen.

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11 Responses to Packing Up a Vacation…Punctuating a Week

  1. Elaine,

    That was beautiful. I have always wished I had more trees in my yard, but have always hesitated because when it storms I am afraid they are coming down right on my house. HA! I grew up around trees and have enjoyed all they have to offer. God created them and that is good enough for me. Welcome home, my friend…

  2. Elaine,
    Glad you had a nice time with your family but I know the feeling of coming home tired! I love Gatlinburg. One of my favorite vacation spots.

    I could almost hear the song of the trees and the cool breeze of the wind reading your post this morning.

    Try and get some rest!

    God bless you!
    Marilyn

  3. Elaine,

    I love the testifying of our hearts of what God is revealing to each one of us. And as we share through our writing and our lips, it causes me to stop and reflect and say Lord, YOU ALONE ARE WORTHY OF MY/OUR PRAISE!

    Blessings Elaine, as you come home to rest and replenish with all you have been taught through the Hand of God.

    Love,
    Yolanda

  4. Welcome home, Faith Elaine! I love the scriptures about us being like trees planted beside streams of water…such a glorious picture. Thank you for these lovely images, I always say the trees tell stories…

  5. What truth here.
    It is amazing to me that some can look a what He created and not see Him.
    He recently spoke to me using the trees while we were in Texas. He speaks to me often through His creation. It is such a personal message to me…but all of nature is crying out for His names sake.
    I love the time before the storm when the skies get dark and angry and then I love when the rains come. It really all speaks to me of His majesty and power.
    He controls the winds and the lightening. Amazing!
    And yes, I know what you mean about the good and the bad of vacation time. It is usually good to be home…that is after the settling takes place.

  6. Elaine, one of my most beautiful memories is of the trees in my island home of Trinidad. The mighty immortelles…trees with trunks that you cannot wrap around even halfway…with tall, strong branches intertwined and covered with moss…it gives enormous shade and stands in majestic beauty…it seems they have been standing for centuries…all I know is the warmth I feel when I see it…deep down connecting to my spirit…creation…the immortelle…display the glory of our God…

  7. Some of my favorite music comes from the sound of the wind through the trees. Whether it comes from hurricane force winds or gentle breezes, there is no composer or orchestra here on earth that can replicate the beautiful symphony the Father can compose with just a simple wave of his hand.

    What a beautiful way to “punctuate” your otherwise chaotic week. Thanks for sharing!

    Blessings and hugs!
    Liz

  8. Thank you for this, I love trees… This was beautifully writen… You are in my prayers, while you try and recover from your trip…
    Connie
    GBU

  9. “In season and out, trees are steadfast and true. They do not worry about a spring’s budding or a fall’s stripping. They simply are. They trust God for the song.”

    I loved this thought and observation.
    I would love the same to be said of me…..one day! I’m a work in progress….and that is a good goal to have, and a lovely (Godly) attitude to strive for.

    Thanks, Elaine!
    God Bless,
    Amy:)

  10. Elaine… Isn’t God’s creation amazing… how it speaks to us… whether we are listening or not…

  11. Your writing has made me remember three things.
    1. A recitation I learned when I was young that began, “I think that I will never see, A poem as lovely as a tree.”
    2. A song that Steve Green sings – “A Symphony of Praise” – rejoicing in creations orchestration.
    3. The tree we planted when my son was born – our “Christopher Tree” – trusting his roots would grow as deep.

    Thanks for the memories,
    Love,
    Joy

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