I wanted some rocks for an object lesson, so I took my children on a nature hunt. We brought bags to collect our treasures in. I found some jagged rocks down by the creek and placed them in my bag. My daughters found sticks, flowers, and pine cones for their collections. On the way back to our van, my two-year-old started collecting dried up dead leaves. She placed them in her bag with enthusiasm. “I’ve got leafses!” “What will you do with them?” I asked. “Bring them to church,” she told me.
Ironically, my 6-year-old who had already gone ahead of us, saw her bag of dead leaves when we got back to the van and exclaimed, “leaves for the Tree of Life!”
Tree of Life just so happens to be the name of the church we call home, but what it made me think of was the verse in Revelation that says, ”…The leaves of the Tree of Life are for the healing of the nations.“ (Revelation 22:2 TPT)
But, these were dead leaves…
The week before, my husband and I were walking through a nature preserve, taking time to process the recent deaths in our families. While there, we took note of how many dead and decaying leaves still covered the ground after the snow had melted. It sparked a conversation about natural landscaping in comparison to curated yards. On one side, people will rake their leaves and put them to the curb to be collected. The leaves are discarded like waste. Yet in nature, these leaves have a specific purpose—nothing wasted.
During warmer months, a tree takes water from the earth and uses capillary action to push that water upwards through the bark’s xylem to the furthest leaves on its branches. The leaves willingly soak in the enriched water along with mineral nutrients. Then in colder months, after the leaves stop receiving chlorophyll from the trees, they change color and fall to the ground. Although, seemingly wasted, the leaves still retain the nutrients as they die. When left on the ground, the leaves decompose and return those nutrients to the earth, sustaining the life of the tree as well as feeding new seedlings and saplings that sprout as the seasons change.
“The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations…”
Could it be? Perhaps death is healing. Oh, I know this to be true. It was exemplified to me on the cross at Calvary.
”He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed.“
(1 Peter 2:24 NLT)
Can I have healing without pain? Can I have life without death?
How foolish it would be to wish away pain, suffering, and death. These are the very things that nurture new life and new beginnings.
I started to think about the grief I have been carrying. Within the span of two weeks both my father-in-love and my grandfather passed on from this life. Neither of their deaths were expected, and I have experienced sorrow more deeply than I ever have felt before. Yet, in the midst of my sorrow I have found hope. I have found the promises of new life. My grief, it too serves a purpose.
I tried to bottle it in. I tried to make it disappear. I tried to rake it up into a pile to be carried away and forgotten.
Then I thought of the words my grandfather shared with me after my father-in-love passed, only a few short days before his own passing. He said, “Jesus wept between Lazarus' death and resurrection and we have found it to be a comfort to do the same.”
”Jesus wept.“ (John 11:35 NKJV)
The profit Isaiah said the Messiah was, “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief…” (Isaiah 53:3) He had the complete understanding of eternal life, and yet He knew grief—He knew my grief.
It’s what Jesus says to Martha after He cries that penetrates my soul.
”Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?’”
(John 11:40 NKJV)
Jesus knew there was resurrection life, and that Lazarus’ being brought back from the dead would only be a taste of what was to come.
But, what do I do when God doesn’t resurrect my loved ones? What do I do when He doesn’t revive my dreams and talents? What do I do when I’m left with a pile of dead leaves? I let them nurture what is to come.
I let my grief sit, like leaves on the ground, like our Savior in the tomb because there is a resurrection coming. I might not be able to see it now. I might not be able to do anything about it right at this time. I might be stuck somewhere between the cross and the resurrection, but I have to hold tight with the knowledge that someday soon I will see the glory of God.
”For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.“
(Romans 8:18 NKJV)
Now I look forward to all that is to come with great expectation, because I know He will take my grief and give me joy. He will take ashes and give beauty. He will take tears and give laughter. He will take death and give life.
”You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers. I’m about to burst with song; I can’t keep quiet about you. God, my God, I can’t thank you enough.“
(Psalms 30:11-12 MSG)
”Those who sow their tears as seeds will reap a harvest with joyful shouts of glee. They may weep as they go out carrying their seed to sow, but they will return with joyful laughter and shouting with gladness as they bring back armloads of blessing and a harvest overflowing!"
(Psalms 126:5-6 TPT)
Comments