by Richard Hendricks, Facilities Manager
A couple of weeks ago, in Scott’s sermon, he told a joke about a guy searching for his keys. This reminded me of the trip I took with friends to the Smokies the third week of October. For me, I was searching for a little R&R and fall foliage. On the day we left, it was cool, cloudy, and windy, with rain drizzling, and I thought back to my mid-twenties, when the Navy had recently transferred me to New London, Connecticut. During my first October, I took a drive to meet a friend in Worcester, Massachusetts, when all of a sudden I saw something I had only seen in movies and picture books.
Growing up in the south, fall meant cooler weather, Friday night football, marching band, and the dreaded raking of leaves. I don’t recall bright, vibrant colors. But, on this day, I saw FALL in all its glory. I was so stunned by its beauty that I pulled over, got out of the car, and just stood there in AWE. The colors seemed to go on forever. It was the same feeling I got when I opened my first box of Crayola crayons with 100 colors. Like how I imagined Joseph’s coat of many colors. I recall that day as if it were yesterday, and I long to experience it again.
As I continued to drive with a smile on my face, I got the feeling that God was smiling also, happy that I had remembered to stop and look around. I felt as if God were saying, now look over here and see this. I looked to my left, and then to my right, all I saw were trees lining the interstate, but as I continued to look at the trees, the wind and the rain picked up, and I watched as the wind blew into the trees, and as they swayed, the leaves were torn off the branches and swirled to and fro.
To me, the trees looked helpless, with no choice but to be still and trust in God. I felt I was being asked to be like a tree, trusting in the Lord. Thinking of the wind and the rain as my personal storm – the chaos of the world: war, hunger, homelessness, and the unknown. I was reminded that the tree stood strong because its roots ran deep and wide, securely rooted in faith. The leaves being torn away was the tree letting go of its fears and letting God be God. Seeing this wasn’t just about one tree (me), it was about all the trees (community). We are being called to be like a tree. Our faith, individually and as a community, runs deep and wide, and we’re firmly planted at Calvary, where we are spiritually fed together.
Beautiful. Thanks
Thanks Richard. A beautiful theological reflection. Makes me miss EFM.
Richard, as a tree lover, I find myself thinking these thoughts so often. I’m thankful to have some wonderful ones in my yard to remind me each day. His as a beautiful message. Thank you.
Stunning, Richard. Just like the trees.
So true, so deep. You touched the heart of the matter.
Thanks.
That is a wonderful perspective. Thank you for sharing this that.
The trees have turned you into a very fine theologian! Thank you for this lovely piece.
Richard, what a wonderfully done message to us.
Beautiful and inspiring reflection. I have always wanted to go to New England in the fall. … guess a road trip is in order. Thanks so much.
What a beautiful way to see God! Thank you, my friend
Beautiful Richard. So happy and proud to know you.
Love perception on many things.
Love the story Richard.
A delightful and meaningful metaphor, Richard. Thank you!
Beautiful reflections for a time such as this. Thank you!
Your words brought a smile to my face, “be still and trust in God”. Thank you for the beautiful reminder.
Thank you, Richard, for a vivid, thoughtful and impactful reflection. Well done.
Loved that Richard. Thsnk you.
As a tree lover this really hits home. Thank you Richard
Oh Richard I love this! Trees are very special to me and now I have another perspective! Beautiful!
We are a solid community tree!!! Thank you, Richard Hendricks!!
Thanks for sharing that was a heart warming story, it was right on time Mr. Richard
Richard, what a wonderful story, thank you!
Richard, having grown up in the Northeast I can empathize with you and your words and thoughts. Thank you my friend. And that includes the dreaded raking!!
Reminds me of psalm 1. Thank you.