The forest for the trees

They have made my blood boil, my mind reel, my teeth clench, and my tears fall. There have been snide remarks, blank worksheets, empty desks, and raised voices.

Many days I was so tired it was all I could do to tape on a smile and not snap like a brittle twig each time I was interrupted mid sentence.

"You can't see the forest for the trees," someone said the old adage. And they were right.

At the beginning of the year, the Lord helped me to see my relationships with my students as little sprouts in a field. He reminded me that my job was simply to cultivate those relationships and nourish them with encouragement, kindness, generosity, and tenacity.

And at some point those little sprouts became trees grounded in shared experiences, conversations, reading, writing, and trust. My students felt comfortable to be themselves with me and their classmates. And sometimes, I didn't like what I saw, but I got to know who they really were, the good and the bad. I would much rather sit under the shade of a gnarled oak tree in my back yard than gaze at silk flowers in a crystal vase that look beautiful, but have never weathered the change of seasons.

So today I opened a letter I wrote to myself the first week of school to find these words: Hopefully you feel as though you are walking through a forest of trees—sturdy, strong, flourishing—each tree is a relationship. Remember those little sprouts you started with? I hope you guarded them and didn't trample on them. Remember though, they were watered and nourished by the Lord. Also, even if you don't feel like there is a forest of trees, you may be surprised. In the words of Noah Gundersen 'Even in the smallest places, can a garden grow.'

I am in awe of God's faithfulness to me this year. He has fulfilled my hopes, and he hasn't failed me, even when I swore he had. In the midst of tears and heartbreak, he has seen me and never left me. He helped me water the sprouts till I could no longer see the forest for the trees. I don't really mind not seeing the forest, because each tree is so precious to me.

With these words I hold out hope for you. Maybe you have finished a grueling semester, or may your job never quits. Look for the forest. Get lost in it. Wander around in the big picture for a little while. While you do, let yourself fall in love with the living, rustling, growing trees that whisper as the wind blows through. Maybe that whisper will be enough to remind you of something you had long forgotten and given up hope for.