Like trees, we are shaped by our seasons. Narrow rings mark years of struggle, but also the deepening of roots. Just as trees can sprout again after being cut down, our lives too, tell a story of hope that through every season of loss and renewal, God is shaping us toward redemption.
In one of my classes at Miami University, I was tasked with using a visual metaphor/analogy to represent my identity. I have always gravitated toward trees~ their strength and resilience, their peace and their patience. Trees have community, they have senses, they can communicate, and our lives are intertwined with theirs.
Trees are also woven throughout Scripture as living reminders of God’s presence and provision. They speak of his role as the gardener, pruning our lives like a branch so that we may bear more fruit (John 15). They rustle with his nearness in the breeze (Genesis 3), and they remind us that if God takes care of them, how much more he will provide for us (Matthew 6). Again and again, trees root us in what is good and true, pointing us back to God’s stability, provision, and redemption.
NOT JUST ANY TREE
A photo taken by my sister of me climbing the tree as a child
In my backyard stood an ash tree that grew up with me. Its branches held me and my siblings as we read, played, and cried. Each fall we raked its leaves into walls and leapt into golden piles. But as we grew older and spent less time beneath it, the tree itself began to fade. Year by year its canopy thinned, until the emerald ash borer hollowed its strength and what once held so much life, slowly gave way and fell.
I couldn’t lose this special tree completely.
PROCESS
From the heart of my fallen tree, I cut sections of its rings and carefully sanded away the chainsaw’s marks. I burned the softwood to draw out the patterns of growth, sealed the surface with shellac, and rolled each piece in ink to capture its story in print. Each impression revealed years of strength and struggle preserved in woodgrain. I shared a print with each of my siblings, so we could all carry a part of the tree that shaped our childhood.
