3-minute read
Last week, I took a day off from work and went on a long hike.
I think I needed it.
Seemed like I needed it.
And my wife thought I needed it.
So, I hiked.
I’m not a big hiker and not prone to rush outdoors to get a big whiff of nature, but the moment I was on this hike, I felt like it was good for me.
Lots of clearing of the cobwebs in my attic and lots of dwelling on what God might be communicating to me.
I listened to some talks via my phone… then walked in silence… then listened for God’s voice… then listened to more talks… then silence… then listened to God…
It was a good little rhythm I had going.
Then, I turned a corner and saw this giant sign.
It read:
DEMONSTRATION FOREST MANAGEMENT PROJECT
The lodgepole pine forest behind this sign has been thinned.
Before thinning, the lodgepole pine was overcrowded with as many as 5,000 trees per acre.
These very dense areas had little tree growth and the intense competition between trees weakens them to insect or disease attacks.
As you walk along the trail, notice very dense timber in contrast to the more open areas.
The more open timber adjacent to dense areas increases the habitat and vegetation diversity and decreases the wildfire hazard of Evergreen Mountain.
I read that and thought, my word. That’s me. My life is a forest of lodgepole pine.
*****
Before “this season” (I use the phrase “this season” instead of “pandemic,” “COVID-19,” or “coronavirus” because, honestly, if I hear those words one more time I might just lose my ever-loving mind), my life was full.
Busy.
Packed.
Doing this…
Then doing that.
Doing this while doing that.
Making sure this was okay…
Making sure that was okay…
Trying not to disappoint them…
Working to live out my potential!
Getting stuff done, son.
And, in the immortal words of Elvis, TCB-ing (Taking Care of Business).
I’m sure yours was, too.
Then… suddenly… everything… slowed… way… down.
But that’s not been an entirely bad thing, has it?
Sure, it’s been uncomfortable at times.
And breaking the “TCB-without-stop” habit is a hard one to break. (We jones for one more task, one more social engagement, one more crack and this and that…)
But I hope, like me, you’re finding real goodness in the slow-down.
*****
It seems what God is doing—for us who will let Him—is thinning out the forest.
Reading that sign, I think of each tree as a To-Do.
Just like trees, To-Do’s can be great! They help us, you know, DO things! Good things, often!
But too many To-Do’s—just like too many lodgepole pines—packed all together result in…
Destruction.
For the trees, it’s “insect or disease attacks” and “wildfire hazard.”
For us humans, it’s being worn thin, worn out, torn apart, torn loose, harried, frazzled, and at our wit’s ends realizing we’re not even accomplishing all that much.
Some smart-minded arborists (probably Colorado State U. grads), looked at what was going on with the lodgepole pines up there on Evergreen Mountain and thought, “This won’t be easy, but we have to thin these things out. It’s the only way they’ll survive. It’s the only way they’re flourish. And, heck, it’s the only way other things are going to grow anywhere near those trees, too.”
So, they thinned out the trees.
Maybe God—in his infinite, even beyond CSU, wisdom—thought, “People’s lives are too packed. Too complex. Too full of too much. They’re missing out on the life I promised them. Lives of simplicity, goodness, rest, focus, and lived-out priorities that indicate what really matters. Their lives are too… dense. In love—IN LOVE!—I need to thin out all that busy-ness, all that complexity, all that go-go-go.”
Maybe that’s what going on in this season.
Here’s the catch, though: the forest had no choice but to come out better on the other side of the thinning.
Not so, us.
We have a choice. (God made us creatures with a vast, world-altering capacity for choice. We get to choose. If we didn’t, we’d be automatons, machines.)
The thinning is happening (has happened… and, honestly, seems like it’s coming to an end)…
But we get to choose if this will produce temporary good effects in us…
Or lifelong good effects in us.
We are the forests…
And we get to choose.
I’m hoping I don’t go back to dense living.
It wasn’t good for me… or the people around me.
Lord, let my life be thin so great, incredible, profound, eternal things can grow.
Really, really grow.
Amen.
Evergreen Mountain—May 18, 2020