Pines, Cones, and Leaves on the Ground
Pines, Cones, and Leaves on the Ground
Walking was out of the question—or what it? As soon as one is told, “No, don’t go,” the internal push back begins. And so, it was this frigid day in Winter. Exercise was long past due and giddy-up-and-go beckoned. Although the day light hours were getting longer, the outdoor temps registered low.
Once I made up my mind to put on the cleated boots and all the other paraphernalia it would take to stay warm, the decision to go was easy. Down the hillside I rambled. All was still—until it wasn’t. Soon, upon the path lay several frosty items. Frozen solid they were after having dropped from the branches above. Pine cones were among the items noted as well as the frost which covered them. The snow upon them would melt as soon as the temps warmed, and new seeds of hope would be birthed. But not yet—as all was still—still frozen, that is.
Small pine branches lingered nearby as the winds had brought them down upon the ground. Funny what gets strewn about when the wind blows as next to the branches were cones, needles, more. The “more” was made up of brown oak leaves atop the canvas of snow as a reminder that remnants of Fall were still adrift. The array of color served to remind that seasons are not separate. No, they mingle as one, interdependent they are on the other. Layers of leaves protect the earth, while snow offers moisture for the pines soon to begin again. Producing fruit is the goal and seasons of rest between each season offer nutrients needed.
In the pause is the quiet. The quiet reminder speaks that one does not need to be in opposition to the other. There is common ground—this giving of life to the other.
According to the quiet in the woods, everything works together for the good of the other. That sort of sounds familiar, doesn’t it? I believe it comes from Romans 8:28. “In everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose.” And if we trust this is so, perhaps it is in the interdependence—one can begin a cycle which will bear fruit—good fruit. And what is that? According to Gal. 5:22, it is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, and love.”
And the admonishment pill upon the hill that must be swallowed and crucified daily is that which follows in Gal. 5:25. “If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us have no self-conceit, no provoking of one another, no envy of one another.”
Looking back on the treasures found, the pines, the cones, and the leaves on the ground—one can deduce they do not provoke. By design, they work together by the one who created. As we, too, are created, may we work together so as to bear good fruit. When one falls, may we be there to pick up and build up rather than tromp down. And when we hear of a brother or a sister tearing down rather than building up, may we not tear them down in return. Rather, may we bear good fruit by gently picking them up in their season of cold, warming their hearts to whole once again. Amen.