Sunday, April 12, 2009

Broken Trees

Last week, at the Moritz household, our yard had a fashion show. 

Due to a frost warning, we had to cover all of our plants (the ones that had just started blooming) with blankets, sheets, and tarps. 

Since most of the sheets that were available were our plaid, flannel winter sheets, our trees and roses looked like they were sporting the latest trend from Seattle, circa 1993.

But, of course, those days are oddities.

Yes, here in Nashville, it’s springtime, even though we aren’t quite finished with the birthing pains called “tornado season”. 

The birds are chirping, the grass is green and the air is filled with the sound of mowers being pushed by men trying to evoke lawn envy in their neighbors.  It’s a wonderful time.

However, as most people know, not all plants bloom at the same time. 

Some, like crocuses and forsythias, bloom first. 

Then there are others that are “late bloomers”. 

This is not a compliment to a middle-schooler. 

To a plant….well….they don’t care so much. 

Anyway…the other day Elijah and I were driving down the road and he looked out his window and said, “Daddy, look at all the broken trees.” 

“Broken trees?” I asked, looking around for fallen branches or something like that.

“Yeah Daddy.  Some have leaves but some don’t.  They’re broken,” He said forlornly.

“OOOHHH.” I said, “they’ll have leaves later.” 

“No.  They’re broken”

I have VERY matter-of-fact kids. 

But I can see why he said that. 

If you don’t understand that some trees take longer to “leaf out” it would seem that they aren’t working properly. 

Three-year-old logic at it’s finest.

But as soon as he said it, I thought about Easter and Good Friday.

Good Friday, for those who aren’t familiar, is when Christians remember Jesus’ death on the cross and Easter is the celebration of His resurrection. 

But what about Saturday?

What about that day between the crucifixion and the resurrection?

I can imagine that the disciples thought that Jesus, the one in whom they had put their trust, was just another delusional rabbi. 

They must have thought that that tree was broken.

No life.

No spring for them.

This wasn’t just a “late bloomer”.

This was a “no bloomer”.

But then Sunday came.

And everything changed.

And Jesus, the Tree of Life leafed out in amazing fullness.

Spring had come.

Life was here.

And the cross, often referred to as a “tree” in ancient times, was the only broken tree after all.

Christ has risen!

He has risen indeed!

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