Saving Hawthorn

A few years back, our team at church removed a whole bunch of shrubbery that had grown out of control from the front of the church property. In its place, a well-kept lawn now sits. Much more orderly, much easier to maintain, much more controllable. But underneath the ground…something was stirring. (Cue dramatic music)

In the Northwest, no plant ever really dies. You can cut it, dig it out, and poison it, and still, the only plants I’ve ever been able to kill are the ones I’m trying hard to keep alive. Ah, the irony. And in this case, nature was winning again. In the heat of last summer, I happened to be walking across that lawn when I noticed a small plant growing up out of the middle. Right where a large hawthorn tree had been.

A few years had passed since that great tree had been removed, and yet here it was, alive and growing once more. I couldn’t help but admire the tenacity of this tree. Cut down, planted over, and forgotten, it just wouldn’t quit.

In the past couple of years, I have picked up the bonsai bug. It has become a joy for me to grow little trees in pots as an art form. I’m not great at it yet, but spending a little time each day with these little guys is therapeutic and calming. Looking at this little guy and seeing the struggle it had been through just to survive, it seemed a waste to leave it there where the mower would make short work of this new life.

So I set my plan to come back with my little garden shovel and some clippers to separate it from the main root. But I forgot those tools the next day. And the day after that. And a few more days after that. But then, I remembered. I had a little pot with soil, my garden tools, and some time to rescue the little hawthorn.

And I walked out into the lawn and took note right away of something that was amiss. Lawn clippings. They were everywhere. Like a botanical slaughterhouse, the grass had been butchered. And, to my horror, the hawthorn was gone. I was a day late. (Dramatic enough?)

The story isn’t over, though. You seemed worried, so I thought I should make sure you knew.

As I walked a bit more, I saw that the hawthorn was not gone, but chopped and pressed into the ground. I despaired for a moment of gathering this new prize for my bonsai collection, but then decided to give it a try anyway. I carefully dug up what was left, cut it free from the main root, and placed it in a pot of fresh soil.

Now we sit in March of the following year. Months of wondering what might happen. Did I just dig up a dead stick, or will something come of it? And as a close look at the photo at the top of this post gave away before I typed a word, buds are sprouting everywhere. No longer am I thinking about wasted time, but which buds I’ll allow to grow in order to find the shape I’m looking for. In another two years, I’ll start reshaping it with wire and well-planned pruning. A couple of years later, I’ll be choosing which pot will display this little beauty the best.

Whoo, bonsai is an adrenaline-packed hobby.

I was sitting with this little plant this week, and a few verses came to mind.

Pay careful attention, then, to how you walk—not as unwise people but as wise—making the most of the time, because the days are evil. (Eph 5:15-16 CSB)

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me, even if he dies, will live. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26 CSB)

I almost missed my chance to enjoy this little life now blooming in my backyard. I wonder, how many other chances to restore the lost, lonely, and broken lives around me I might miss because I’m not following Paul’s direction to pay attention and use the time well? Am I going to the places and people Jesus would go to? Am I searching for the one who is lost among and beyond the crowd of the found?

But before I get too distracted by my own importance in this process, I consider Jesus’ words to Martha regarding her brother Lazarus, lying in a days-old tomb. Martha believed that her brother would rise again someday. Jesus wanted her to understand that the kind of resurrection he brings is today. Not just for Lazarus, but for her.

It is the resurrecting power of Jesus that gives me life, and it is that same power at work in me that can transform lives around me when I get out of the way.

So today, as I prepare for a day of church work, visiting, and helping with the youth group tonight, I want to think about that hawthorn. Remembering that I only have the day I’m in to do the redemptive work God has put in front of me for today. There is no guarantee that tomorrow will present the same opportunity. I never know when the riding lawn mower of life may change things.

Of greater value, though, is remembering that it isn’t me that is really needed to accomplish that work. It is the power of Jesus that brings new life to seemingly dead things. He preserves the roots so trees can grow again. He invites sinners to come into life made new. He empowers his people to join the work of redemption. And a few days in a tomb is nothing compared to that life-giving power.