Spring Tree
by Caitlin Celka
Sometimes I feel like a leafless winter tree.
Dead. Purposeless. Alone.
Only swaying when the wind tells me to.
But then I remember spring and how it's filled with life.
Renewal. Blooming. Rebirth.
I think of the dead, withered flowers of the winter.
But I quickly remind myself that they will soon be glorious and filled with color.
They will have unexplainable aromas.
I tell myself to be a tree.
Not just any tree, but a tree of life. A tree that looks into the heavens.
A spring tree plentiful with leaves and nests for song birds.
I tell myself to be a tree that stands firm for the name of God.
For He alone can heal the broken.
Mend a heart. Calm a raging sea. Feed five thousand people. Love a sinner.
Yet, I alone, am nothing. But in Christ alone, I am everything.
by Caitlin Celka
Sometimes I feel like a leafless winter tree.
Dead. Purposeless. Alone.
Only swaying when the wind tells me to.
But then I remember spring and how it's filled with life.
Renewal. Blooming. Rebirth.
I think of the dead, withered flowers of the winter.
But I quickly remind myself that they will soon be glorious and filled with color.
They will have unexplainable aromas.
I tell myself to be a tree.
Not just any tree, but a tree of life. A tree that looks into the heavens.
A spring tree plentiful with leaves and nests for song birds.
I tell myself to be a tree that stands firm for the name of God.
For He alone can heal the broken.
Mend a heart. Calm a raging sea. Feed five thousand people. Love a sinner.
Yet, I alone, am nothing. But in Christ alone, I am everything.