A Tree Planted by Water
Behind the Words with Ginny L. Yttrup
Weary following a restless night, then an early-morning row with unnamed fears lodged in my chest and shoulders, I tap the Bible app on my phone and read the verse of the day.
But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.
Jeremiah 17:7
Because I am familiar with the passage, my shoulders tingle with a zing of energy as I open the chapter to read more.
They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.
Jeremiah 17:8
During my trek through the Bible this year, a trek focused on looking for trees, this passage has become a favorite. I read it again and name my early-morning fears one by one. If I am like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream, I need not fear a drought of work, finances, or words—or any of the other worries that taunt me.
My shoulders relax, and the weight in my chest lifts. Anticipation stirs as I return to the verse.
. . . like a tree planted by the water . . .
In my imaginings, the tree planted by the stream becomes a forest planted in the Sierras above the valley in which I live. Characters I’ve developed come to life, their stories weaving through the towering sugar and ponderosa pines of that forest.
Passion bubbles and my fingers ache for their place on the keyboard, the place where they are most at home. Relishing the creative energy passion delivers, I follow the trail of my passion through the forest in my mind, recalling words already captured in the sentences, paragraphs, scenes, and chapters of my story in progress.
But it is not a day for more words to appear in that story.
It is a day scheduled with other work, for which I am grateful.
I enjoy a few moments of peace—a peace that has replaced my fears and surpasses understanding, since my circumstances have not really changed. Then I follow passion’s trail far enough to pick up ideas from the forest’s floor and tuck them away for later.
For when my fingers will again dance over keys to invite the fruit of words into my story.
It's so good to visit your garden and see what is growing, what is being pruned, what has been dug up, and what is being planted. Thank you for the invitation and the open door. I have only been sitting in my garden, observing and reflecting, but not gardening. Today I showed up to the Live Writing Session with April. I had the 'bright idea' of trying a Flash Fiction Story - a new concept for me. Ginny, it was like fresh water to my soul. It was my first step back to the garden's edge, trowel in hand. It felt so good. I came away thinking this: I have written, I can write, I will write.
This journey, this sabbatical time for spiritual formation and healing, is deliberately slow and at times seems to produce very little. Yet I know the purpose and ways of God are true and effective and I am in good hands and will persevere. Today, your words were nurturing and motivating. Thank you!
Thank you for today's encouragement from Jeremiah 17, words I needed!