He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. (Psalm 1:3)
OK, I really appreciate the tree image. On a day like today, when I’m running crazy, the idea of solid, deep stillness is delicious. On a day like today, when so little that I do seems to be of real value, the thought of being useful, of fulfilling my purpose, is profoundly satisfying. On a day like today, when my back aches and the gray is spreading, the hope of not withering invigorates me.
But I gotta tell you, I struggle with the rest of the verse. I’m trying to be a Psalm 1 kinda guy, but I can’t honestly say that whatever I do prospers. Maybe I’m not Psalm 1ish enough. Maybe I sit in the seat of mockers more often than I like to admit. Maybe my meditation isn’t up to snuff.
On the other hand, maybe I don’t have a good enough grip on what it means to “prosper.” Maybe God is prospering me in ways I can’t see, can’t even imagine.
Yeah, I like that “Maybe” better.
For all that I don’t know—which is plenty—there is one thing I do know.
I wanna be a tree.
Happy Thursday, Beloved.