BY WALT ALBRITTON
OPINION —
I enjoy staying busy, but over the years I have had to turn off the engine and allow my soul to catch up with my body. And many times, I found that a walk in the woods was a good remedy for exhaustion.
Though I can no longer walk without the help of a walker, I remain thankful for the way God restored my soul when I took the time to isolate myself among the tall oak trees on my dad’s farm, and in other places where Dean and I lived. Alone with God I would forget about my “to do” list and open my mind and heart to the Inner Voice of God. I found the stillness of the oak’s shade a good place to meditate and pray, thanking God for loving me.
As I leaned back on an oak tree, I would think about how alive and strong it was. It was not running, just standing there doing what oak trees do. It needed no help from me to provide shade for me or any of the creatures that chose to enjoy it. The little birds flittering above my head seemed to calm my spirit. As squirrels were jumping from limb to limb, I wondered if they ever took the time to just sit and relax in their nests.
Specks of sunshine filtering through the tree leaves reminded me that God was calmly taking care of his world. I would open my mind and body to receive his peace. I felt alive. I felt loved. A gentle breeze sometimes added to the tranquility that was renewing my spirit. And yes, I often felt guilty for not spending more time in the woods, allowing my inner wheels to stop spinning long enough for my soul to absorb the calmness it was missing.
Once, near where I sat, the peaceful water of a small pond caught my attention. Two ducks, apparently not noticing me, had come near the shore for lunch. They were nervously gulping down seed from tall grass. They were eating too fast, I thought; they’ll have indigestion. I smiled, remembering that I had no right to judge the ducks; my wife always said I ate too fast.
The ground under the tree was sprinkled with dead leaves and acorns. I picked up an acorn and let it teach me. “This big tree,” it said, “was once as small as me.” I looked for a long time at the little acorn, thinking about the wonder of it all — that something so small could become a huge tree. The inner voice said, “And a small deed of mercy can become an enormous blessing!”
I realize now that I was worshipping God under those sprawling oak trees. Every trunk of a tree was a pew, each tree a lovely sanctuary. While corporate worship is essential, solitary worship can also refresh and renew our souls. Alone with God (and a few of his creatures in the woods), you can recover from exhaustion. You can experience the renewal that caused the Psalmist David to say, “He restores my soul.”
Oak trees can remind of how King David described a righteous man: “He shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.” I am like an oak tree; its life depends on the nourishment of the earth and water. My soul must be nourished by my heavenly Father in order to bear the fruit he expects from my life.
The Prophet Isaiah likens God’s people to oak trees. He described them this way: “In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory.” I have been blessed and inspired by men who were indeed “Oaks of righteousness.” Would to God I might someday be known as one.
Under an oak tree I felt free to talk aloud to God, and I did. The squirrels and birds did not seem to mind. I thanked God for my blessings — my wife, my family, my friends — and the doors he had opened for me, and the years he had given me. Most of the time I did not ask him for anything; I simply worshipped him and praised him for all he had done for me.
With the sun setting and the darkness descending, I would realize my reflection time was over. I would put my hands on the old tree and that thank it for its kindness. As I walked away, I often heard the inner voice whispering in my heart, “I am glad you enjoyed your walk in the woods, my son. I enjoy restoring your soul and giving you fresh energy for the rest of the journey. We should meet like this more often.”
Joy would flood my soul. I would feel renewed, more alive and thankful that my Father loved me, warts and all. The peace of those moments under the oak trees lingers still.
Perhaps there are some oak trees nearby that you need to sit under for a spell and let your Father restore your soul.
Please excuse me. I’m headed outside. I hear an oak tree calling.
