Evergreen: What I Want to Be This Year
ev·er·green/ˈevərˌɡrēn/adjective
1. of or denoting a plant that retains green leaves throughout the year.
“They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:8
Strapping my baby daughter in the carrier, who was recovering from RSV, my middle daughter and I went on a hike to alleviate cabin fever. I held her hand as we walked out of the warehouse apartment, where we live, across the field where my husband is framing our new house.
The house itself is tucked behind a grove of pines and overhung with hardwood trees. But I saw rust-colored needles skirting the ground around the pines’ trunks. I stood back and looked up at those trees. One had shed more than the others: pinecones ornamented nearly every branch.
I had expressed my concern about the trees during a family walk after Thanksgiving. My father-in-law said that pines—though evergreen—go through shedding seasons like every other tree.
Standing before the pines, I looked up and thought: Evergreen. My word for 2019 is evergreen.
Grounded has been my word for this year, and at first, I didn’t see a correlation between the two. In 2018, I wanted to be grounded in the revelation of Jesus’ love. And now, my roots firmly planted in that love, I want to remain evergreen, loving others as Jesus loves me, regardless of what life puts us through.
We’re currently living in a countdown until my husband’s January craniotomy, almost four years after the first one took place. In some ways, the date’s beneficial. I finished Christmas shopping last night and, after everyone was in bed, watched It’s a Wonderful Life while wrapping presents. Any negative energy has transformed into fuel, banishing procrastination. The house has never been cleaner. I almost want to start organizing the pantry and closets, but my energy doesn’t extend that far.
But lurking beneath that energy is fear.
I didn’t even know that fear existed until a few days ago, when I told my husband things we need to do before his surgery. My firm “to-do list” approach was neither helpful nor compassionate, and as he calmly explained his feelings regarding surgery, I hunkered forward and drilled my fingers into my jaw, which hurt like a day-old wisdom teeth extraction.
My tears fell harder. I began to sob. I flipped onto my stomach and tried muffling my face in the carpet, so I wouldn’t wake our girls, but as the pain built, I leapt to my feet and ran out of the apartment into the warehouse.
So much of that experience was like four years ago: me hammering him for a to-do list while he lay in a hospital bed, hours from brain surgery. That to-do list made me feel in control. Having my stocking stuffers by December 1 makes me feel in control. Having a clean house makes me feel in control.
But I am not in control of anything, and that’s where the fear lurks.
In the cold warehouse, I sat on the box containing our new house’s front door, and I thought that even building our house is a modern-day altar. We are trusting that Jesus will take us through. We are trusting that, in a few weeks or a few months after surgery, my husband will be well enough to finish the job.
So much of life—of love—is not about control but about surrendering what we cannot. It’s about being exposed to life’s storms—its elements—and choosing to stand strong. It’s about digging our root system deep when the wind picks up. It’s about remaining evergreen, vibrant, loving, and alive, even when our rust-colored needles are cushioning the ground.
You see, this life is just a season, my friends.
Everything good and everything bad is just for a season. Let’s plant our roots deep and remain evergreen, even in winter, for hope always comes in the spring.
How are you going to dig deep in your season? Artist Anna Floyd is a young widow and mother who has processed life and love as bravely as anyone I have ever known. Visit her links below to learn more.
How the Light Gets In Watercolor Giveaway!
Evergreen Photo by Les Anderson on Unsplash