From a distance, it looked impressive. Quietly majestic, even.
Hiking through the park, I wandered off the (literally) beaten bath to check out a tree whose circumference was 136 inches. That's 11 feet four inches around.
Only up close would you notice this tree has a hole in the trunk. It's just about at eye height, so you can lean into the thing and see grass and trees on the other side (see photo below).
But what forces of nature could hollow out a tree? Drought? Disease? Rot from within? I'm sure this tree has a story, likely a sad one. And that story will only get sadder once the park district follows through on the destruction noted by a spraypainted X. Still, the longer I stared through that trunk, the stronger grew the sensation that this tree was a living (or perhaps more accurately, dying) metaphor.
Most of the believers you and I bump into in our daily lives look just fine on the outside. Healthy. Happy. Productive. But experience shows that more than a few are as hollowed out as that tree in the woods.
Which is a fancier way of saying they’re dying on the inside. Could be they’ve disconnected themselves from God—or feeding on His Word. Maybe they’ve cut themselves off from the spiritual nourishment that comes only in fellowship with other believers.
In nature, a hollowed-out tree is a death sentence. But hollowed-out souls are not beyond the restoring touch of God. Analyzing, assessing, or even passing judgment on these people is tempting. Yet, our task is not to criticize but to comfort. Not to bring blame but to bring balm.
It's a new year. Maybe we should worry less about resolutions—and worry more about restorations.
: souls with holes. Look for them. Love them.
And invite God to do the work that only He can do—restoring the hollow places.
We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please our neighbors for their good, to build them up.
-Romans 15:1,2
