There is a mulberry tree near my home. For nearly fifteen years, I have relished her delicious, juicy offerings. Countless children who have graced my life have joyfully partaken as well. Foster grandsons. A surrogate granddaughter. Blissful berry-stained lips and cheeks. Victorious purple fingers celebrating in the shade of this generous, gracious giant. And not only children. My husband, sons, daughter-in-law, mother-in-law, friends all have shared in the unselfish bounty of this massive tree.

I say we have been visiting this mulberry tree for fifteen years, but her owner, who so generously has allowed this jubilant harvesting, told me one day that this tree is much older than that. This behemoth is, in fact, well over forty years old. And it shows. Her branches have taken over most of the front property. One can nestle inside those leafy arms and never be seen. She has grown tall and wide and rather ungainly due to a lack of any kind of pruning. Her trunk is gnarled and weather-worn and bug eaten. During our winter months those branches lay naked and thin and brittle. And I always wonder if she will return in the Spring.

In the past few years, we have experienced our share of severe weather. Two hurricanes in particular have shaken our sense of security and rearranged our landscape. One of those storms dealt what I thought was the death blow to the Tree. Split right down the middle. The aged, fragile lady just couldn’t stand against the fury of the wind. There she lay, exhausted and exposed. Walking past her one day, I expressed to my husband how much I would miss the fruit of her labor and all the delightful smells her cobblers have brought forth from my kitchen. I would miss the purple fingers. And yet, against all odds, Springtime comes and with it Life. Against all odds…

This morning I took my dog for a walk on our familiar route. This included passing the mulberry tree. This was our first walk in way too long, but I am on Spring Break, and now there is breathing room to do a few of the things I love, like simply joining my dog on a nice long walk. He was overjoyed. Around the corner to the sidewalk behind my home. The predictable sniffing of every bush. The crunching of pollen underfoot. The swinging worms….. And yet it is a beautiful day and to be reveled in.  And so we came to the mulberry tree – clothed magnificently in all her green glory. Some of her branches lying yet on the ground. Some of her branches standing tall in the sun.  Some of her branches bent with age. All of her branches laden with splendid berries in all stages of ripening. Apparently she is not done. Not done living. Not done giving. Not done gracing those who partake in her life…

And so, as so often happens, this glorious life set me to thinking about my own. I must confess that as I paused for a moment taking in her relentless tenacity to live, I saw myself in her seasons. There have been times when the storms of my life have bent me low, and I wondered if I even had it in me to keep going, let alone offer life. And yet, against all odds, God whispers, “You and I are not done yet.” There have been times when I thought the fury of the wind had broken me clean in half. And yet, against all odds, the Creator of the wind whispers, “There is yet life in you, and more.” There have been times when the sheer weight of what I have borne on my shoulders – or in my heart – has threatened to snap me, and yet against all odds, the Keeper of my shoulders and heart whispers, “My strength is made perfect in your weakness.”

And what of these days now? I am in a season of relative peace and contentment. No storm threatens. The sun is casting warmth. The love of God, and of those with whom He has graced me, buoys my heart and strengthens my mind. But the weathering of years. Just the passing of years. I can feel it. The weathering. The wearing. The gnarling. And sometimes the weary threatens to get the best of me, to press me to the ground. And then I take my dog for a walk. And I witness the glory of a life sustained and the continuing in the offering. And the Creator of Life whispers in the radiance of a beautiful mulberry tree, “You and I are not done. Rest in Me and drink in My life. Offer your life and the fruit of My love. I will sustain you. And get ready to pick some berries and make some cobbler.” Against all odds…..