A Love For Trees
I’m a tree person, especially during this season. I frequently point out beautiful trees to my husband and discuss them with my students at school. That’s why it’s surprising that I completely overlooked one particular gem. On our way to church last Sunday, Tim asked me if I had seen this stunning tree, and he was astonished that I hadn’t noticed it.
You might recognize this tree if you’re familiar with the Bolens Creek area. During my first visit out of the destruction zone in September, I felt sad as I passed this place where a house once stood. My son, Devan, had a friend who lived there, and I took him to visit often. After a devastating mudslide, the house lies crushed, barely hanging on the hillside. I often think about that dear family as I pass by daily, especially since my son’s friend lost his mother a few years ago. She was such a sweet lady, friend, and a good mama.
Tim captured the moment’s essence when he pointed out that the tree is a testament to all of us, that we are survivors. Despite what Helene might have thought she achieved, this vibrant tree stands defiantly on a battlefield, radiating its pink hue and proclaiming to the world that it is a survivor. Six months have passed since that tragic event, and as I make my daily journeys through Murchison, Pensacola, and Bolens Creek, I find myself reflecting on my survival. This experience has become a powerful lesson in resilience for me.
Literature Lessons for Life
When I taught sixth-grade English Language Arts, we frequently read Esperanza Rising. This book has had a greater impact on my life than I realized when I read it with my students because it always seems to come full circle to me.
The story follows a young girl and her family immigrating to America. Along the way, they face many tragedies and struggles. Her grandmother makes the journey with her and teaches her how to crochet. Grandma instructs her to travel (crochet) to the top of the mountain, yet every time the poor girl gets a row to the top of the mountain, Grandma deliberately comes along and pulls her stitching out. Esperanza becomes so frustrated with her grandma, and so does the reader. It isn’t until after many trials that Esperanza and the reader begin to realize Grandma is teaching about so much more than crocheting.
Isn’t life great when we find ourselves atop the mountain, enjoying breathtaking views? Yet, like Esperanza’s stitches, life can unravel when we least expect it. Grandma always told Esperanza, “Do not be afraid to start over,” as she pulled out her stitches. Let’s be real for a minute. Starting over is hard, and it’s certainly not for the weak.
Joseph—A Life of Restarting
This makes me think of the story of Joseph, who had to restart his life not just once but several times. What began as a simple mission to check on his brothers ended with him being thrown into a pit and sold into slavery. After escaping that “pit,” he found himself in another one—prison—after being wrongfully accused. And just when it seemed his life was turning around, his brothers reappeared looking for food.
It’s not easy to pick ourselves back up when we’re knocked down and let me just say, friend, I can’t do it without God’s help.
Many of you may relate to my thoughts on aging. I’ve crossed the half-century mark and don’t know how that happened so fast! With age comes various health challenges. My recent battle with the flu reminded me of that. It’s been three weeks now that I’m post-flu and pleurisy. Together, they kicked my hiney. I believe that our salvation and health are two of life’s most precious gifts—neither can be bought. No matter how many hours I work, how many jobs I take on, or how much money I earn, I have nothing without God and good health. And of these two, having God is by far the most valuable.
I often feel anxious about my health and that of my family. My husband, daughter, and son are what I lovingly call PKD warriors, all living with polycystic kidney disease. Today, I have been virtually advocating for funding for PKD and other diseases, especially in light of the recent 57 percent cut to the medical research budget. I pray to God and look to Him, especially during this time, trusting He will send a better plan. And for now, I’ll share our family’s story and advocate for increased awareness of the need for research into this disease and so many others. I have also worked hard today, plugging into the ears of those with the power to not forget us here in the mountains. Our healthcare has taken a hit here, but we will not stay knocked down.
A Commitment to Rising Again
Just like that beautiful pink tree and the story of Joseph reminded me this week, I, too, am a survivor. I’m a survivor of Helene, the lone wolf in my family who doesn’t have PKD and a survivor of a fallen world. I commit to rising each day—whether I start at the top of the mountain or the bottom of the valley—seeking God’s strength to fulfill my purpose that day. Because without Him, I truly have nothing.
I love the sentence where you say the tree is standing defiantly on a battlefield. That’s how I see you trying to stand and do battle for your family. You are a warrior. Love you April Woody.