Dear West Family

Gosh I like fall, and I really like that there may even be fall-esque sorts of temperatures early next week. I can’t really remember what it feels like to wear a hoodie or to get out of my car without having become temporarily attached to the seats, but I am looking forward to becoming reacquainted with those experiences.

One of the things that Sue and I have done over the last few fall seasons is that we have planted some trees in our yard. We cleared our yard of a gnarly old cedar tree that was poisoning everything (especially our sinuses) a few years ago, and while it made everything healthier, it left our little space a touch exposed. As a result we have been dreaming for a while about how we want to frame our space with shade that our grandkids might play under in the distant future. We have planted two olives, a dwarf magnolia, a live oak and a couple of beautiful single stem crape myrtles. 

Here's the thing though, trees are expensive and notoriously difficult to transplant into the Texas soil which is apparently only 1 inch deep before you hit the actual mantle of the earth. So we bought tiny trees. They look so silly currently. My neighbor was laughing at me for our plans just the other day, but gosh they will be lovely in 20 years. My neighbor was laughing because he will be dead and he thinks I might be too, but someone other than us will get to enjoy wonderful shade from the oak, fruit from the olives, and annual flowers from the magnolias and myrtles.

It got me thinking. In our very fast-paced society we tend to pursue gratification that is instant, but often not very long-lasting. We have substituted multi-generational impact for drive-thru quick fixes, and so we don’t often stop to think about building things that we won’t get to benefit from. Things like character, generosity, faithfulness, mercy and wisdom.

But we should. 

The story of God’s faithfulness recorded for us in scripture is always multi-generational. God even reveals himself as the one who works through multiple generations (Ex 3:6) and gives us the mandate of living in a way that will result in multi-generational faith impact (Ps 145:4; Eph 3:21). We are called to be those who plant trees, the shade of which we will never sit under, but whose shade will be enjoyed nonetheless. 

As Sue and I sat out on the deck the other night, I laughed at our little trees. They look so silly, so unlikely to bring any pleasure, growth or shade, and yet I smiled at how these small sticks were pictures of our lives. Our efforts don’t look like much, and our roots don’t yet feel like they have hit fertile soil, and we are desperately needy and easy to knock over … but God builds something out of us. So, we stay faithful, and we water these tiny trunks, and God builds something that birds will roost in long after our bodies have returned to the thin soil of Texas.

Keep planting small trees. God makes them grow.

The music this week is very self-indulgent. It is from my favorite Peter Gabriel concert from the early 90’s. I include it though because Manu Katche’s drumming has to be seen (and heard) to be believed. Check out the heavily syncopated drum break at 3:34 and 5:03 if you don’t want to listen to the rest.
Still my favorite drummer.

Peter Gabriel - Come Talk To Me - Secret World Live

Press on.
Ross