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.