Today the robins and squirrels are playing in the leaves and eating. Sometimes they bump into each others space. It is quite comical. Their agenda is so simplistic, they do not worry for their next moment. They do not manipulate or plan things. They make a nest when it is time. They eat when they are hungry. They birth when it is time. I am not suggesting that this model of simplicity would work for us as human. But the being in the moment, and not worrying about the next, that is a lesson Jesus taught. And the trust that he cares and intervenes, that too is from God, for us, in them.

The same day I wrote my blog, on repenting for wishing the trees we steward were redder, I had some friends over. My favorite friends are the ones I can enjoy the land with. These friends do. Together we exclaimed over the joy in this soil. We felt awe at the gift God has entrusted us with. We felt the trees in their solid strength. We walked in the woods, and blessed life while receiving life. It was amazing. My husband was not present physically. He had some stuff to get at Menards and was intent on finishing the wiring in the garage. I was a little bummed he missed our time. But then, in the middle of dinner, he walked in with some papers. He handed me some papers and said I would need them.  I opened them up. It was a receipt and a how-to-plant guide. He bought a tree. He not only bought a tree but he bought the kind that turns color in the fall. And he not only bought a tree that changes color, he bypassed the one I thought we wanted, which turned out to be a hybrid. Instead he bought one native to this land. And one of my friends chuckled and said…it was just like he was with us on our trek over the property.  And I thought, that very morning I had repented about my judgment. This very evening God moved on my husband. And I am reminded…he does everything well and in the right time.

A few days later our tree went in the ground.

The next morning someone asked me what his name was. I didn’t know. And I was unwilling to name him if he already had one. And all I had heard from the oaks during the plant, was, ‘we have tested him, and he is good’.

As I went out to see how he had fared through the night, I heard a chuckle. And I heard his name. Melvin, elv for short. Chuckle. I look at him compared to the oaks. And I chuckle too. Elv indeed. Melvin he shall be.

The celebration of life continues, and today I am a part of it.

One of my favorite seasons is fall. I love the ways the trees yield their glory to enter the dormant season before rebirth. It is a cycle of life I resonate to. And now we have moved. And we steward amazing trees! And I waited, because I was sure the trees in OUR yard would look more glorious than any one else’s. I expected our trees to make me proud! We have white oaks, pin oaks, lots of bur oak, and I thought…red.
But nothing is red.
And the oak trees are not turning.
And the hickory trees are a sweet golden, but we have no red in our yard.
And as I feel disappointed, I have to examine why.
I expected the trees to be glorious to please me.
I take it personally.
Instead of the maturity of knowing that I get to steward what I am a small part of, and seeing the beauty of it all, I was in the selfish immaturity of assuming whatever happens around me is because of me and about me. That is the way a child thinks. Oh dear.
I was also grumbling because every one in the family had seen deer but me.
This morning I watched as a mother doe and her two young followed her across our back yard.
It was mothering at its finest.
Leap quickly through the open fields. And pause and listen when you get to the woods. Go slow and blend.
She taught by her model. They followed.
And I felt special, for a moment. Like it had something to do with me because I witnessed it. And surely witnessing the doe was more important than witnessing the coyote I saw in our back yard the first week.
I realize I have been in a dating relationship with the earth.
I have enjoyed it when it pleased me.
And I have stewarded haphazardly with the underlying expectation that if I cared for it, it would do what I wanted it to.
This morning I find myself in repentance about that. It is a gift of God that I get to be a part of this big wide world.
All of it.
And there is fresh commitment in me to love creation the way he does.
I remember him telling me I would not have the wisdom to direct the snapping turtles to go elsewhere until I love them the way he does. I knew it was wisdom but here is a deeper level.
This is not the wisdom the world values.
To them it appears as foolishness.
But for me it is the next season of growing in the ways of love.
It is the commitment a wife makes, to steward what belongs to her husband. Instead of a girlfriend, who wonders what it will be like in an unrealistic way.
He knew the doe would come today, to teach her children in front of me.
He knew I would learn too.
Surely he does all things well.
Just look at my life.

I was on my way to jazzercise this morning.
The Lord pressed himself close to me and asked- Are you ok with my dealings with your mom?

I started to cry.
My mom was found naked and wetting herself recently. She fell and broke some ribs so it was determined she needed help caring for herself. She was in a nursing home recovering from the fall when she got a bad CNA. The CNA left her on the commode for hours. her nightgowns with feces were not washed. And her diapers were forgotten. This is the interim time between getting her recovered and establishing her in a facility that cares for Alzheimers.

When I made the move to gain distance from my family in 1993, it was because the Lord had indicated it was what I needed to heal. It was hard then, and over the years various parts of it have been excruciating. This is my mom. Yes, I was abused. Yes, even by her. But she is my mom. I was her carbon copy. She is the only mom I will ever have. That makes her irreplaceable, and now with her in this condition, even my visit must consider other relatives that hold naught but ill in their will towards me.

And here she is. Dying from a leak to her heart. And losing her sanity. And experiencing abuse in a nursing home.

And the Lord awaits- are you ok, Tanya, with my dealings regarding your mom?

What do I say?
The quick first response is no, take her home to be with you quickly.
The second thought from the brain tries to sort out how much is the Lord in her current condition.
The third response, which I want to be the first response, is, All of your ways are perfect Lord. Help me see your hand in this.

And he seems to say, your brothers and sisters still have many judgments against her. And I see a picture that involves righteousness, and how there is a perfect proportion the earth must experience to glorify God.
I ask if my forgiveness can stand in their place.
He goes on. And there is your mother herself, and the judgments she holds and will not release.
I begin to see that his ways in this truly are higher than mine.

And I really do not know entirely what it is like to be her right now. Sometimes I have shared moments. But not the whole. Not the entire of essence and life choices that have become who she will be.

I think of Revelation 19.
The Bride, upon seeing the smoke from that city ascend forever (due to destruction) (did she have any family there?) responds with a wholehearted declaration. True and righteous are your judgments Oh God.
That cry precedes his coming.
I long for that to be worked into me, into the Bride, the wholehearted embrace of his ways his timing and his decrees.
And I consider my mom. And know that some of it is because of her choices, some of it is because of my family, and some of it is because of original sin, and rebellion, an iniquity. And the turning from God in the bloodline.

And I cannot see my Father allowing something unjust to go on forever or without reward. And I cannot see him punishing like this.
And I also know the dangerous to some prayer that is within me- do whatever it takes God to get me ready for eternity.
And who am I to say or to sort these dynamics or their proportions.
And I stand with Job, and say I thought I knew, and now I am in sackcloth and ashes.
Forgive me for the place in my heart that thinks to know anything but the truth that true and righteous are your judgments, God an I am not even sure whether this is that or something else.

Humbled. Broken. Walking still.
He sees the end from the beginning.
And he knows what he is doing.
And from that perspective, I pray.