A Truncated Fall

But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up.

--- Ecclesiastes 4:10 

I drove to our modest family cabin for the first time this summer, over the unpaved roads bordered by towering birches and pines.  Rounding a bend in the pine-needled driveway, the familiar wooden structure came into view.  Yet I was shocked and dismayed to see a massive pine tree leaning at a fatal angle, its roots beginning to upend.  Over the winter, the lower portion of its trunk had developed a deep crack and at any moment could split in half, with one side crashing into the shed containing boats and supplies.  The only thing keeping it partially upright was an ancient tree, which the previous year had been identified for removal.   

These friendly “Tree Beards” had neighbored our cabin for the past three generations.  I remembered as a teen hearing the red squirrel’s incessant chatter coming from above and my grandmother sassing back to it.  The lower branches of the older tree jutted out like barren crossbars from the huge wooden mast of its trunk.  I pictured a tire swing once hanging from the lowest branch and recalled lazy childhood summer days sitting jack-knifed while swaying to-and-fro.

This large, half-dead tree was the only reason the split pine hadn’t completely fallen, demolished the shed and perhaps struck our neighbor’s house.  How thankful I was for old-tree's continued presence there, just when most needed.

Thank you, Lord, for the important work you have for us to do, even when we feel old and half-dead!