Roots

A young and blooming tree stood tall amidst the rest. Coloured with greens and budding berries, others drew closer for advice on how to be deeply rooted and grow beautifully. The simple tree, not accustomed to the attention and praises, would just shrugged off the compliments and sing of God's praises and mercies in its life to the rest of the plants.

The young tree, spirited and energetic, would always look up to Heaven and acknowledge God's hands in its life. Poised to be polished for His work in the future, the tree tried to enjoy the time that it has before venturing in full-volume to the other pasture. That road would not be easy.

"It's not easy", the tree said. Fear had actually crept inside but the tree assumed it's normal for anything as small as it is, to feel that way after being picked to do big things. Little did it know, its roots were loosening.

The strong stems used to be fresh and vibrantly absorbing everything that it was given to by the Creator. Now, it's turning grey and it was holding back from every anointing and even turning its back from His face. The young tree was ashamed of itself.

The roots have been poisoned. It's turning blue and it was drying up. Somehow, one way or another, the young tree knew that something was terribly wrong. It tried to call upon God to do something. God was silent. Could it be due to the fact that the roots have gone too far from His presence?

The tree could still boldly sing praises and love hymns, but, it would always stop to ponder, "How much do I love God?"

The answer remained bleak. The roots were still shattering. One day, the poison and lack of refreshmen would reach its trunk and its leaves and fruits.

The young tree prayed that that day would never come. It longed to be deeply rooted in God again. Determination was set and the desire was ablazed but the faith wavered.

Lord, have mercy on the little tree.  ¶ 3:52 PM