Leaf Lessons, by Dr. Bill Bagents

This post was written by my very fine friend and former colleague at Heritage Christian University and at Mars Hill Church of Christ, Dr. Bill Bagents. As you enjoy it, you'll likely want to know also about Bill's new book entitled, Always Near: Listening for Lessons From God. Published by our friends at Heritage Christian University, it's a collection of Bill's articles that I believe will help each reader draw closer to the Lord. I was pleased and honored to write the foreword. I hope you'll take a look at Always Near. You'll be glad you did.

May 2019. Cypress Publications. 264 pages. $19.99.

Order Online at http://www.hcu.edu/product-category/books/.

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Leaf Lessons, by Dr. Bill Bagents

The biggest tree at our house was damaged by lightning more than a decade ago.  People stopped by, wanting to give us a price for removing it.  “You know it’s dead,” was the lead sentence in each brief conversation.  I didn’t, and neither did the tree.  It bears a major scar but continues to flourish.  This year it produced what seems to be a record number of leaves.

I like the tree and its scar.  Things made by God are more resilient than things made by humans.  Having a scar doesn’t make a tree—or a person—worthless or unable.  Both trees and people can survive far more and far worse than we realize.

As an oak, our scarred but vibrant tree is deciduous; it loses its leaves every fall.  Still, it makes me think of the description of the righteous in Psalm 1:3, “He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf does not wither, and whatever he does shall prosper.”  While the acorns aren’t fruit to me, the squirrels seem to love them.

Besides the three big trees near the street, our lot is tree-lined at the rear.  In summer, we love the shade and the deep green colors.  In the fall, we deal with a jillion falling leaves—every one of them some shade of brown.  I don’t mind that, as it gives me pause to reflect.

• On a quiet morning, you can hear the leaves fall.  It almost sounds like rain.  I’ve never been sure why it’s such a soothing sound.

• There are too many leaves to mulch effectively.  Raking and transporting them to the end of the street provide an abundance of needed exercise.  Until the next batch falls, you can see and enjoy your progress (Ecclesiastes 2:24 and 3:22).

• As the next batch falls, we’re reminded of how much we don’t control.  They don’t fall on command, and they don’t stay on demand.  They follow a cycle that we didn’t choose and that we can’t control. And there’s no need to fuss or stress about it (Matthew 6:34).

• Neighbors think it strange that I sometimes rake leaves before daylight.  The leaves don’t seem to mind.  It’s convenient for me, there are no distractions, and generally the wind stays calm.  Plus, it’s good to enjoy the occasional harmless odd behavior.

• As I age, my used-to-be muscles remind me that I won’t be raking my own leaves forever.  There was a time when I could have raked the entire lawn in a single long day.  That time has long passed.  Its passing reminds me of Psalm 90:10 and Ecclesiastes 12:1-5.  Some of the trees that produce those leaves will likely be here long after I am gone.

• Dealing with the leaves reminds me of the power of perseverance. No matter how little I get done today, I’ll eventually complete the job if I don’t quit.  Quitting isn’t a viable option.  Reminds me of Galatians 6:9.

• When I pile the leaves instead of letting them blow over and plague our neighbors, I’m reminded of Galatians 6:10 and Matthew 7:12.  

Maybe I need more leaf lessons.