Are You a Tree or a Tumbleweed?

by Joel Bates

Something noteworthy about the old oak in my backyard is that it’s the reason I live here.  Years ago, when my wife and I purchased our parcel of land, we noticed this big, old, gnarly oak leaning heavily to one side, testifying that it had braced against many great windstorms and yet stayed standing with scars of its battles showing the signs of the fight.  We would sprawl in the shade of its spreading branches, and dream about our future home.  Months later, as we marked out the house site, that leaning oak became the focal point of our layout. 
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It really is ironic that I would place so much emphasis on a tree.  In my younger years, I rolled through life more like a tumbleweed than a mighty tree, enjoying being light and free.  I lived on the move, blowing into town one day and out again the next, never allowing myself to be pinned down by commitments and responsibilities.  I chased new sights and traveled with abandon to the next adventure.  This attitude defined my life and mapped the way I thought I wanted to live.  There was no way I could have been a tree, just stuck in one place to watch the world go by.  

Trees and tumbleweeds…this comparison aptly sketches our culture.  As a product of our society, I clung to the tumbleweed life, drawn there by two false ideals:  1. The best life is a life of always going, doing, and moving from one significant adventure to another; and 2. The only way to accomplish this lifestyle is by drifting with little to no commitment.  It has taken me years to accept that the life of a tree is indeed the better life for me, and I have discovered it is not an unadventurous life at all.  The Bible’s wide array of wisdom literature on the subject of trees not only convinced me of this truth, but it also inspired me to let loose of the free, fast-paced lifestyle to become not so much a tree hugger, but a tree-analogy-of-life hugger—one who is planted, rooted, steadfast in faith, a shield for the weak, and full of praise. 
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Did you know trees were all of those things?  Yep.  Tree-talk is all throughout scripture.  In fact, God skillfully includes trees to teach us spiritual truths.  Note the comparisons of a person’s devotion to God as noted by the prophet Jeremiah describing as follows:   

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​ “He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit” (Jer. 17:8). 

The lure of tumbleweed living held me tight as I entered adulthood, so I decided to appease my craving and become a cross-cultural missionary.  I would see the world, experience new cultures, and do it all in the name of ministry.  However, the romance quickly wore off, and I found myself feeling blown, tossed, and in need of a deepening root system as I faced the questions from critics I was supposed to be evangelizing, not to mention some inner doubts forming around the edges of my soul.  In my wanderlust, I realized I had to sink roots into Christ and His word if I was ever going to make it in this world. 
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After a stint on the mission field, I began to work at a Christian camp specializing in outdoor challenge and adventure.  Thinking little of rootedness or longevity, I plunged into the work mostly because it held a draw of the unknown that called to me, wrapped up in leading expeditions.  I wanted to see over the next hill, climb the next mountain, and watch people change from the experience.  Little did I know that I would be the one changing as I grew a “stronger trunk” with some “fledgling branches.”  I noticed a little ​fruit now and then, but mostly, I just had a sense of growing tougher bark that comes from facing the hard knocks of life.  

Years into ministry, I came across a passage in Isaiah that stopped me in my tracks and has since become one of my life passages.  Isaiah 61:1-3 says,
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“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” 

It’s a classic “drop-the-mic-and-walk-off-the-stage” moment when Jesus after quoting this passage in Luke 4:18-20 announces, “It’s fulfilled in me.”  Jesus goes on to accomplish everything prophesied by Isaiah, changing the lives of all sorts of troubled, needy folks, but it’s the end of Isaiah’s prophecy that astounds me most: “…that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”  Suddenly I realized that a life lived in Christ and submitted to His lordship is not a tumbleweed life, being blown and tossed, never really remaining anywhere, just constant aimlessness.  The real life I want is the life of an oak of righteousness.  
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Think about the image.  Oaks are attractive.  We love gazing upon the beauty and majesty of a huge tree, feeling the thick bark and marveling at its height.  However, for that tree to become that way, it has to be planted, which implies a gardener’s intentional digging of earth and placing the seed in the ground, covering and cultivating the sprout.  That’s the story of the people of God.  It’s my story.  

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The tree grows in the place where its planted.  It might feel like being stuck, but given time, it looks more like rootedness.  The higher the tree grows the better the view until it is able to spread its protective canopy over a forest of more fragile growing things.  This takes great patience and a period of waiting which is something a tumbleweed doesn’t do.  But a tumbleweed does not put down roots and cannot face the pressures of the storms of life.  Oaks can, and with each new season, its arms are raised to spring forth fruit and praise to the Maker of heaven and earth.  Psalm 92:12-15 expands the analogy,

“The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the LORD is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.” 
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A few years ago, I climbed the old oak in my backyard and hung a tire swing from a sturdy limb.  The other day, I watched one of my children joyfully swing there, anchored to the mighty timber.  I looked back to my tumbleweed days and realized I’d been serving the Lord faithfully in ministry for many years.  I had become a reliable person to many, an anchor for my family and a spreading of shade and shepherding for friends, and even some coworkers.  As my children sang and played under that tree, I couldn’t help but smile as I, too, have become one rooted deep in Jesus; an oak of righteousness. 

Whether you feel stuck in ministry or blown and tossed like a tumbleweed, know that the Lord has a special place for you planted by streams of living water.