i was the tree

I sat quietly in church as a picture came into my mind.

It was of a tree.

And it was me.  I was the tree.

And a quickly, a violent storm came with winds and thunder.  And leaves began falling rapidly and branches were broke in half.

And I wondered, “where should I go to escape the storm?”

…but the storm was exactly where I was supposed to be. 

In the storm, the roots grow deeper.  Leaves fall, branches break, and the tree is pruned for something new. 

Without the storm, things remain the same.

In the storm, something new comes alive.

Stand.  Wait.  Drip.  And come alive.