We Willows

(by Heather Huebner)

Many years ago I bought a small, curly willow bush. I was assured it would only grow to a maximum of fifteen feet, and only then, in the best of conditions. I suppose my conditions turned out to be the best, for as time passed it grew to fifteen feet, then twenty, and then to almost twenty-five feet tall, and just as wide. It was a beautiful tree, nestled in the back corner of my backyard, cascading over the fence into three different neighbour’s yards. It became a natural privacy wall, and a favourite refuge for all sorts of birds and creatures because of the multitude of stems and thick, leafy cover.

Soon, however, I discovered that it had developed some type of fungus. Over time, this turned some branches black before killing them. Every year, in an attempt to control the black rot, I would climb a ladder and cut off whatever dying branches I could reach.

Years passed and the tree continued to grow, but I just couldn’t prevent the black fungus from killing some of the branches. I was perplexed as to why the willow continued to thrive despite the fungus, but I learned to accept that it would be an ongoing battle.

Then one day, out of the blue, a tornado came through our neighbourhood and with one touch of its immense power it knocked over that willow tree. In less than sixty seconds the wind pulled up our giant willow’s roots and threw the massive tree across our yard. When I saw the tree down, I reconciled myself to the fact that the tree was gone. Eventually a crew came to help with the cleanup, and they cut up the willow and carried it out of the yard piece by piece. We pushed what remained up and back into its place, and I was left with a large, sad stump where the stately tree had once stood.

I wanted to remove the entire stump, but it was very large, and no one I knew had a chainsaw. Besides, one side of the root system had held fast. It ran deep into the ground where it disappeared from view.  Having dealt with garden challenges before, I resigned myself to simply plan how to work around it, how to hide the stump. Yet in doing so I made a discovery; I discovered that that tree was actually sitting in water so constantly that it would never dry out, not even in drought. Not only was it on the lower path of rain water in two directions, but it was also growing over an underground spring. It had grown as large as it did because it was constantly being watered, which is what willow trees need to thrive.

By the following year, new branches were growing from the center of the stump, by the year after that it was a small tree, and today, the willow is back, tall and wide, and on its way to becoming stately again. What is even more interesting is that the number of black areas have significantly decreased. There are a couple of black branches, but much fewer than before.

We are like my willow. 

When we, through the Holy Spirit, are planted in Him and drink deeply of God’s Word, His Living Water, we grow and thrive (Psalm 1:3). Despite the constant creep of the fungus of our sin nature, which continues to plague us as we grow, the Spirit of God is faithful to prune what is still dead in us to make us more like Him, to sanctify our lives to reflect Him (John 15:2).

We can grow to the point where God will use us to be a benefit to those around us. We can become a comfort and shelter for the weary, the broken, and the lost. We can be like signposts in the landscape, a constant arrow pointing to the One who provides us with a continuous supply of Himself.

We are, however, not just like the grand willows. Many of us will eventually be like fallen willows as well. Life with all its trials and sin may knock us over and cause us to wonder if we are actually dead. As we stare at ourselves, fallen and broken on the ground, we may begin to doubt His abundant Supply. We may even decide that it is no use because we are too broken, too lifeless, and too far gone to revive.

And that would be true of us, except for one thing. A bruised reed He will not break; a smoldering wick He will not snuff out. God finishes what He starts, the good work He began in us He will bring to completion. All we may see are the branches strewn across the ground and the stump of a once beautiful tree standing alone in the corner, but He is not finished with us yet. His life is still there, at the roots, and it is ready to feed us and make us grow once more. We may faint and lie still in our own valley of dry bones and with one weak cry say, “Will these bones live?” But He will answer us, “Awake, oh sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you!” and we shall rise and walk once more (Isaiah 42:3, Philippians 1:6, Ezekiel 37:1-3, Ephesians 5:14).

These things are not in vain, for with each felling He will drive our roots deeper. Our need for Him will grow more apparent, and our desire for Him will grow more intense. With each toppling, the grip of sin will release just a little more, as the sanctification He has promised will continue according to His will. With each crash to the ground, what was meant for evil He will turn to good as all things will work together according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

It is a beautiful thing to see my willow growing again, but how much more beautiful it is to see a weary Christian look to the Lord and remember that our help comes from Him. How praiseworthy as we drink from the Living Water once again, and let the Lord do the work of continuing to grow us. In reality, He never left us, and He never forsook us. Even when we stumbled, even when we fell, and even when we surveyed what seemed like death to us and were tempted to give up. He is the Master Gardener, and He will pick us up when we fall. It is God who provides the growth. He came that we may have life, and have it to the full. There is abundant water in Christ. All we have to do is drink, drink deeply of Him, His word, His promises, and watch as He transforms us (Psalm 121:1-2, John 7:37-39, Hebrews 13:5, Psalm 37:24, John 15:1-2, John 10:10).

Brothers and sisters, we are like willows who thrive in much water; we thrive in Christ. His life is true Life, and apart from Him there is no life at all. After all, where else would we go? (John 6:68).

Drink up.

The Re-growing Willow Tree