Rooted and Joined

 

I’m a big fan of trees.  In fact, I’m fairly certain that heaven will be full of them: glorious edifices of nature waving their arms in welcome and in worship as we take shady shelter beneath them between worshipping the One who invited us to join Him there.  Doubtless we will recognise oaks, beech and horse chestnuts (I remember having to identify these for my nature badge in Jucos a millennia or so ago), but I imagine there will be a diversity of exotic species we’ve never seen before.

Not only that, but trees provide a refuge for me when writing grinds to a halt.  When inspiration fails (all too frequently) a wander in the woods usually provides a fruitful and creative thinking space.  I find that trees give me a healthier perspective on life too.  When my nose is up against a deadline or my brain chuntering repeatedly on some imminent challenge that requires untangling skills that are way beyond me, the trees remind me that they have stood for many years before my arrival on the planet and will still be standing long after I am gone.  Suddenly my huge and overwhelming problem shrinks to something rather more manageable than that.

Last year, I was fortunate enough to visit the Sequoia, Redwood park in California, somewhere I had only previously come across in my Ladybird book: Flight Three USA.  Page 37 illustrates a classic American ‘gas-guzzler’ driving through a literal tree tunnel.

Not only are these some of the oldest tress in the world, they are also the tallest.  The General Sherman (they do love a military name) is  84metres tall and over 11metres wide.  Pretty hefty. 

I wandered around trying to take photos which was quite a challenge.  In order to fit an entire tree into the camera frame you need to be so far away from it that other trees impinge on the image.  Pictures taken in sections aren’t quite so satisfying.

However, I read a lot of those little information plaques and ‘Oooh’-ed and ‘Aahh’-ed in more or less equal quantities.  There were two fascinating facts that lend themselves to encouraging ACW writers.

1) Redwoods have a natural defence against fire.  Because their bark is thick, fibrous and full of tannins (rather than resin) they have a natural resilience to it.  They are also able to re-sprout after a fire because they have reserves of sugar and starch which they store in the good times to provide a resource as and when required.

As Jesus-following writers, our natural defence against disappointment, setbacks and even outright failure is tempered by the presence of the Holy Spirit and the conviction that whatever our outward circumstances, God is still with us and His hand is still just as much on us whether our manuscript becomes a best seller or is rejected outright.  Our joy and security in Him is not dependent on either our successes of failures.  Storing God's promises and accessing those truths in dark times helps us stand strong.

2) Despite their gravity-defying size, redwoods have a surprisingly shallow root system.  You’d think that given the dizzying heights they reach, these trees would have equally deep roots to hold them firmly through inclement weather.  However, the root systems, which can stretch over a wide area, intertwine with those of other trees and thus they support one another through the storms. They also share their nutrients with their neighbours.

One of the great boons of being part of ACW is the mutual support and encouragement we enjoy within this community. I love how generous people so often are with advice, in answering questions from writers at all stages on their various journeys, in commiserating with the disappointments and struggles, and in cheering one another on in the successes.

So, my fellow redwoods; let’s keep reaching for the light up there in the canopy as we press in on our faith journey but let’s all keep those roots reaching out towards one another and binding us in healthy community too.

Jenny Sanders has spent the last eleven years living between the UK and South Africa. She writes faith-inspired non-fiction: Spiritual Feasting (2020) asks how we can ‘feast’ when life serves unpalatable menus; Polished Arrows is available now, exploring the allegory of  God shaping us to be fired effectively into our culture and contexts.                 

Jenny also has two published collections of humorous short stories for Key Stage 2 children. She is available for author visits in primary schools, taking creative writing sessions.  She loves walking in nature, preferably by a river, and has a visceral loathing for offal, pineapple and incorrect use of car indicators on roundabouts.