I am a Tree

Something that I have always had trouble with is relinquishing control. I am very much a do-it-yourselfer. The way I see it, if I do it, I know it will get done. I have an independent streak a mile long. But this is not the way of God. And it's honestly ironic, because the idea of giving up this control, of never bothering with it because Someone greater, wiser, bigger, is taking care of it, is so beautiful to me. I love that. Because I've seen Him prove it to be true. But there are days that it is so difficult to remember that Truth. To remember that it is nearly commanded for me NOT to grasp for control.

I wear a necklace every day that is a tree. I've gotten a lot of questions about it, and my response is always the same. Originally, I bought it because of the song How He Loves by David Crowder Band, or others, depending. The lyrics I love from the song, the reason I bought it, are:

He is jealous for me.

Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree.

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.

But this morning, it developed a whole new meaning. I was in the library rather than Midnight Oil, and as I was thinking about this whole control thing, I looked out the window at some naked trees; probably cold, too. Immediately, a thought sparked: "just like those trees." Trees have no control whatsoever. They are planted without being asked. Watered, hugged, sat on, climbed up, broken, neglected, and gazed upon; all without consent. They have no control, yet they grow to be huge beauties, providing shade and comfort. I realize that a tree is not a human, but that tree gives up all control to something, Someone, greater than itself, without hesitating.
I [want to be like] a tree.