8.16.2009

A Life Lived in Seasons

I walk up to the twisted tree. I feel small and unimportant under the canopy of its leaves. Protected and shaded, I am the tree's.

Admiring it's beauty, I interrogate; begging, I cry at the base of it's trunk. Day after day, I come with worries, fears, hopes, and questions to the quiet tree. Then I pause, waiting, my mind drifts. I search for a flower to blossom from the cold ground, or a voice to boom from a rainy cloud to alleviate the dreadfullness of my humanity; oh wise quiet tree. Patience is not my strong suit. With no success, I walk away in frustration.

Fall comes; winter is on it's way. I can sense an end to my days under the tree as my frustration eradicates any desire to approach it, especially during the cold, dreary days ahead.

Winter takes hold, and all my feelings are trapped. I have no where to dispense, no where to go. Concealed beneath a smile, everything I've done, everything I've said, and everything I feel deteriorates my insides as I fill my life with the temporary, promising forever.

To the blind, the twisted tree fades into the background on these winter days, dormant and producing nothing useful. Yet it is said, the tree is just waiting for the day it is greeted again by the rising sun wakening from its nightlong slumber; then may the blinded once again see and finally be set free. Will spring come again?

Is this the life of a follower?

I was listening to KTIS one morning as I was getting ready for a hot date with my grandma when a musician being interviewed asked a simple, yet challenging, question: "Is this the life of a follower?"

I didn't need to review my life too far back to come up with an answer: yes, well, maybe...no?

As I generalized the past two years, I would like to say yes; I am living the life of a follower. Two years ago, I committed myself as a follower of Christ by joining the Core Team at St. Raphael's. Focusing my life on Christ, I dedicated myself to a transformation through service and prayer. Therefore, I became His follower.

However, I started to look at the days instead of years, the hours instead of days, bringing me to the many situations where I didn't act like a follower of Christ. I've been a bad example. I don't always practice patience, love, humility, or kindness, nor do I always say the right things or jump to someones aid when they need it.
But I am human, and I've come to terms with this--yet I still hold the daily responsibility of living the life of a follower in every circumstance.


Two years ago, I committed myself as a follower of Christ and continue my journey as one today. But every single day, whether I'm annoyed with my brother or impatient with a peer, I have to continually ask myself that very question to keep me in line.

And so ladies and gents, don't lose sight of the small things.
Are you living the life of a follower?