The Lessons of the Trees

Lou Ann Karabel
May 25
2 min read

As I write, I’m sitting on the screened porch of our cabin at Hocking Hills State Park in Ohio. It’s nearly 8:00 pm, and a few birds are singing their goodnight songs. According to my Merlin bird identification app (check it out if you don’t have it!), two Eastern Towhees are calling to one another through the trees. The wind is slowly moving through the branches. Three shagbark hickories stand close to the porch. Behind, all is green.

I’ve read that green is the most soothing color to the human eye (though some will say that blue is also a calming color.) I prefer to think that it’s green—not only because it’s my favorite color, but also because for me, it is evidence of God’s perfect, extravagant, beautiful design. With so much green in the world—including billions of tree leaves!—why wouldn’t it be a comforting, peaceful color for us?

As you may know, the new women’s ministry at our church—Women at the Well—held a very well-attended day retreat at the church last month. Its focus was on what we can learn about our spiritual lives through the metaphor of a tree’s anatomy.

We talked about:

Our roots (experience and knowledge that form the foundations of our faith).
Our trunk (those practices and experiences that grow and strengthen our faith).
Our branches (evidence of our reaching both upwards to God, and outwards to others).
Our leaves (the site of transformation in the tree, much like the transformation to which we are led by God).
And our fruits (the visible results of spiritual growth).

I believe that each of us learned something new about our journey of faith. And being able to share my observations about God’s glorious creations—both the trees and our spiritual lives—meant so much to me. If you were unable to join us but are interested in learning more about all that the trees might teach us, please let me know! I have a wealth of materials that I would love to share, with a group or an individual.

In the meantime, I leave you with a piece we used during the retreat.

A Litany of The Tree

I am the heat of your hearth on cold winter nights.

I am the shade that screens you from the sun.

I am the fruits that quench your thirst and feed your belly.

I am the beams that hold your roof and walls.

I am the boards of your table, and of the bed on which you lie.

I am the music of the wind blowing through my branches.

I am the orange, red, and golden glory of fall.

I am the dance of the breeze across my leaves.

I am the slats of your cradle. I am the shell of your coffin.

I am the wood of the manger. I am the wood of the cross.