This is my favourite tree. It stands near a little bend along the Red River at Fort Dufferin. This is where my Mennonite forefathers first stepped off the steamship after immigrating to Canada from Russia in the late 1800's. They say this tree is the first thing they saw when they stepped onto dry land. (Do the math. If it was this big back then...well, anyway, it's way over 150 years old.) Who knows? My great-great grandparents may have gazed up at its splendid branches and marvelled at how they shamelessly reached for the sky. They must have been burdened with tired, hungry children and trunks filled with supplies to get them through the long winter to come. But I like to think that just looking at this amazing tree gave them strength.

Doing things afraid

I used to think you had to wait until you felt brave to face your fears. When that moment came, the heavens would open and a mighty voice would say, "Now! Do it now!" Except I've never been one of those people wise enough or blessed enough to hear that mighty voice. I've always had to wing it with every major decsion in my life. And then, when it became apparent that I'd really made a bad choice, I'd imagine this mighty voice would roar, "I told you not to do that!" Except, he didn't. He never made a sound.
I've never really felt like God was guiding me. Never felt like I was being led. It's always later, in retrospect, that I see where I went wrong and where I really could have used a little advice from the master of the universe.
Why does he wait? Why doesn't he just hold up a sign with directions in bold print, telling us precisely whom to marry, how many kids to have, which house to buy, which job to take?
All those major life decisions, based on our feeble, short-sighted knowledge, and the Lord of the world with omniscient wisdom holds out on us. What's up with that? Does he get some sick pleasure from watching us goof up?
It seems to me that he wants us to do things afraid. He wants us to step out on that thin ice, not knowing which spot will find us plunging into the frosty water. If every step was measured and directed, let's face it, we wouldn't listen anyway. We humans are a reckless, rebellious bunch. We can't love someone who orders us around. We balk at that. So, the one who wants our love the most stands by and waits, ready to swoop in to comfort us when we mess up.
So, I do things afraid and wait for the courage to come from my sense of accomplishment and for the strength to come from defeat.
But when I succeed, even though I can't hear his voice, I swear I can hear his applause.