I was walking through the woods in the Cain Center. It was a warm day and the sun felt good on my face as it filtered through the leaves. I would find pockets of bright sun and bask in it glow. The shadows on the ground testified to the birds flitting from twig to twig, but it was so bright when I looked up I couldn't see them. Some of them chirped, but none of them sang on that day.
I walked down a wooded path and noticed the chill. The shadow of a large tree obscured the light and the heat. I kept walking and eventually the darkness parted and the light returned. I noticed the colors in the forest - bright green sprouts, faded brown leaves, electric red berries, pools of golden light. The textures were rich, the smooth surface of the water, the coarse bark of trees, the granular earth beneath my feet.
I came around a corner and saw a huge log. It lay next to the path. It was well worn from people sitting on it for a rest. I stood at its end and noticed the rings. It had been an old tree, experienced in the ways of the forrest. It had stood tall. Some of the rings were narrow-hard lean times. Some rings were wide on those years when all the conditions were optimized. All the years made up the trees life and legacy. Now it is fading back into the forrest.
I thought of the last two years. There have been moments of joy and warmth, but there have been so many moments of darkness and chill. I kept reminding myself that we will come out on the other side of this. The sunlight will return. We will not be were we started. The path does not lead back in a loop, but to new territory. If we pay attention, God has new things for us to see and experience. God has new treasures and joys. Some of them might be obscured from our view, but they are there. Like the rings in the tree, we know that these have been lean years, but we have rich soil, and deep roots and God is not finished with us. Wide years are coming.