A maple-flavored soul care plan
A compelling alternative to tapping out
Souls are weary.
“It's a lot right now.”
“I'm tapped out.”
“I've checked out from all the chaos.”
Have you thought or said something like this recently? Hurricanes. Political havoc. Coming holidays. It's enough stress to make any of us distance and distract.
But not my trees. Four quiet maples in my front yard are lit up like autumn campfires. They stand solid, silent, striking.
For seven months every year, my maples spread their verdant canopies. Mid-October, their star leaves start to drop hints of gold. Then almost overnight, they become burning torches.
My maples enamor. In fact, there's a family who comes to our yard every year to take their photos with the leaves and light just so.
My trees also hold a clever model for caring soul care.
To thrive, we must allow God to look after our inner lives.
Nathan Foster defines soul care as,
“a space where we allow the Lover of our souls have his way — to tend, care, nurture, correct and guide — to renew our inner beings and fill us to overflowing with his love and care.”
Trees change because they follow an innate rhythm designed by a caring God. As nights lengthen and cooler temperatures set in, trees stop producing chlorophyll (the green-making magic).
When my maples turn red, orange, and yellow, I see the leftover pigments, brilliant with chemicals and sugars ablaze, which will feed them through winter's bluster.
Funny how my maples simply do what they were created to do to survive: they stay rooted while they alter, and thus, they delight.
Allow me a little anthropomorphic fun.
Soul care happens best when we attach to the Lover of our souls. He reminds us of his divine, deep-seated rhythm swirling in our very atoms.
We may be weary, but God is caring for us.
Here's how I interpret my maples' soul care plan:
They don't run from the lengthening dark. With roots firmly planted, they stay.
They don't fear the chilling temperatures. They take a seasonal step back from production and tap into stored up reserves. They anticipate change, and go with it.
Although my maples have thick trunks, the strongest maples you can find are the ones in old growth forests that link up underground in complex root systems. They feed, protect, and communicate with one another, even other species!
It's easy to say that the brilliance of trees is their color, but their superpower is what’s unseen: they stay attached to one another.
Soul care happens best when we attach to the Lover of our souls. He reminds us of his divine, deep-seated rhythm swirling in our very atoms.
We may be weary, but God is caring for us.
Stay rooted.
Step back when necessary.
Stay connected.
Stretch out your branches to the sky.
My soul depends on it, and so does yours.
Does this resonate with you?
Forward this post to a friend who needs some light.
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