The Shade Of The Damning Tree

I love hammocks. Almost every time that I go to the Mexican market in Cuidad Juarez I look at them and desire to get one, but both the times that bought one for myself it was donated to the Mexican Fiesta. Looking back I remember my Nea (my mothers mom) and Bepaw (my mom’s dad) had a hammock in their back yard. It was the kind that had the green metal frame that needed some paint with the canvas type rope netting that you lay in. getting into it was always a challenge and once you did, well it was a little slice of Royal Oak heaven. When I was young and it was hot out, I wanted to be on that hammock. Lying in the backyard shade of an plum tree, drinking a cold lemonade.

That was the life. That was then.

Today, unfortunately, there is little time for lying in the shade. Most of us need to take more time and do that whole bunch of nothing, except enjoying life for a while. But many of us, in the midst the hyper busyness of our lives, are lying in the shade of a totally different kind of tree, the damning tree. This tree offers no comfort or rest it only condemns, it only indicts us. It always lives to make the past our present. Our mistakes and rebellion are forever on its wrinkled critical lips.

“You are loser.“

“You’re such a sinner.”

“How could God ever love you?”

“He may love you, but he’ll never forget what you did to her!”

“You’re unqualified for everything.”

“That sin that you constantly engage in, that proves he has rejected you!”

On, and on, and on, the damning tree drones. As you lay in its shade you are never refreshed, constantly exhausted from guilt, regret and shame.

It’s time to move out of the shade of the damning tree and into the sunlight of God’s truth and as we bask in that certainty this cool refreshing reminder whispers in our ear:

“Therefore there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the spirit of life has set us free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:1-2

In Christ, You Are Free, and that is way better than a hammock in the shade.

The First Time I Killed Me

I was looking forward to the hunt with all of the eager expectation a twelve year old could muster. I had loaded the pristine weapon with 25 rounds of brand new ammunition. The shinny bronze balls glittered in the mid morning sunlight as I placed each one in the loading tube. These were brand new .177 steel balls of death, not at all like the plastic wimpy balls of today. I was now ready to do as I pleased as I sought out some prey of the flying variety.

I must admit that in my daydreams I was a much better shooter that in reality. So over the years I contributed many pounds of steel to the environment around my parent’s property near Onaway, Michigan in the attempt to see what it was like to hit a live target. On this particular sunny June day I went out seeking a mark, knowing that my grandmother had purposely told me over breakfast not to kill any birds. Hiding behind the barn, out of site from my grandmothers prying eyes I sought my prey. To this day I can see the dark blue barrel lowered toward the branches of the old twisted apple tree. With my trigger finger poised to release the compressed air that I had pumped ten times in the barn out of earshot from the birds, I drew down on a lonely sparrow perched on a branch. I picked out a feather on his chest and released the steely little messenger of death from its prison. Out of the barrel with a whisper and a pop to my amazement the bb struck the bird exactly where I had aimed and it fell over dead onto the ground.

At that moment I felt several things at the same time. I felt like I had closed my eyes while batting and hit a double in the all star game after never having a hit before (which I had experienced a couple of years previous to this occasion) and then when I saw the bird up close and personal I knew what I had done was totally unnecessary and pointless. Then, immediately, like the voice of God himself, I heard my grand mothers voice cry out “Craig your not shooting at those birds are you?” I don’t remember if I answered her or not, but I know I ran and got a shovel and buried the little guy beneath that apple tree on that sunny day in June and with it a little piece of me died too.

We want so many things that on this side of getting them, seem so attractive and exciting, but in the end, leave us guilty and empty inside. I don’t know what you are seeking today but I have a question for you: Is it Jesus? Do you need the Holy Spirit more and more to touch you, guide you, and move in you? I do. Come Holy Spirit revive this dead life again!