Weathered in Glory

Have you ever seen a tree, damaged by storms, still standing?

As silly as it sounds, I named an old weathered tree in our backyard “Glory”. Once upon a time when all this land was one big farm, I bet that tree had some important jobs. 

Maybe it held a swing or shared it’s shade for family picnics. Perhaps several baby birds were born in nests there. 

The years have been rough on that old tree. The wind has whipped through on many occasions and broken it’s mighty limbs. 

Why is it that the broken branches can’t fall to the ground with a clean break? Instead they seem to hang on forever as constant reminders of gray days and no sun.

On top of that, it’s trunk has been surrounded by Black Locusts which have huge thorns all over them. It has definitely been protected, but from what, I’m not sure. 

To us, the tree has been completely off limits and quite honestly, looking at it out our kitchen window for eight years, it has looked quite forgotten and lonely. 

Several months ago just after lunch one Saturday afternoon, I heard this tremendous boom and looked out back. Lightning struck the tree.

A massive limb cracked and fell right down its middle. It’s center was essentially peeled back and dangling. My heart sank. How much more could this poor tree take?

When the winds calmed and the storm ended, we ran out back. Not being able to reach it, there was nothing we could do. 

Until two weeks ago. 

My husband brought home a machine and got rid of all those thorn trees. Woo hoo! They’re not welcome here anymore! He cleaned up all those broken limbs and, my, how the view has changed. 

When I look out the window, it’s almost like Faith showed back up carrying baskets full of hope. And, even though the tree’s scars are totally visible, they’re more of a badge of strength now instead of a burden. 

How freeing it must be to drop all that “heavy” and be able to stand tall once again, with arms outstretched towards the blue sky, weathered in Glory.  

 

32 thoughts on “Weathered in Glory

  1. The raw power and beauty of nature shines through in your post – beautiful. So glad the tree is rescued, free to reach for the sky. Glory indeed! 😀 I once saw an older tree and towards the bottom of the thick trunk was thick metal wiring embedded into the trunk through which it had grown. Astonishing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning, Judi. Thank you so much! I’m happy to hear you can picture “Glory” even without the photograph.

      It truly is a beautiful tree. Easy to take pictures of! Thanks for supporting my writing! :)

      Like

  2. You made me feel like I had a personal connection with this tree in your yard lol. I actually felt myself get a little happier when your husband came to its rescue. I can honestly say no one has ever evoked feelings in me over a tree that I’ve never seen in person. Quite a skill you have. You’re very descriptive in your writing :)

    Liked by 3 people

  3. For sure, Blair. And, Jessica, did you know that this post is uncannily similar to one I’ve been working on? We have a 150 year old oak on our property. Actually, it sits just over the line, but I claim it as my own. If anyone so much as touches that tree they will have to deal with me. The actual farmers/owners have farmed around it for years, thankfully, and it is a beautiful old thing, falling branches and all. Was just taking more pictures the other day. Thank you for this post!!! :)

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I either have memory issues (likely), or completion issues (less likely). Guessing it’s more of a “Oh, that’s a great idea, but I’ll finish it later” thing. :)

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Thanks Jessica for giving me such a beautiful start to my day. After reading your post yesterday about Glory, I was anxious to go back and read the original post. I was thinking about a reply from Weird Guy With The Dog, and it certainly can be compared to the seasons of life. I thought about the times when like the broken limbs I too had events that cause minor damage in my life, you are able to go on and grow in a different direction, then you are hit with a lightning bolt and you don’t know if you can even breath. But you do, and you are helped by someone or something (hubby pruning away thorns, family always being there for you or a kiss from the puppy) and even tho a big part of you is missing, you survived, and you grow and wrap you arms around all that matters to you, holding tight.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh my gosh, girl, you just wrote a story yourself…

      Touched me in the depths of my heart. You know the ones? Where you think heartache is buried, but a gentle reminder causes us to realize not only did we ride the storms out, we survived them with grace.

      I love every single word you wrote. Every one. Growing in another direction is such an epiphany. I had one of those “oh yeah” moments when I read it. We do. We grow around stuff, past stuff.

      Your very last night started the tear faucet!

      You, my friend, are a gift. I don’t know how our paths crossed, but I’m counting my blessings that they did! ❤️

      Like

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