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Good morning…

Our Writers’ Group from church has been meeting regularly since 2008, supporting the growth of God within one another. On Tuesday night a small group of us enjoyed a spur of the moment, “pop-up” gathering in one woman’s back yard.

“Gals,” the hostess wrote the next day. “Had I known our dinner last night would be the last in the shadow of our (borrowed) bamboo forest, I would have sat and looked at it for hours after you left.”

bamboo-forest

“I’ve truly grieved today,” she continued. “First the shock this morning to hear a bulldozer at 7 am. I had a feeling that it had come to flatten the forest and took this last picture. By noon, the view – and our serene, private sanctuary was gone. While we mourn, the family that owns the land is rejoicing that their kids have a safe place to play.”

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“I cried over the loss of peace I felt with the view each morning and the memories of my kids playing in the magical forest,” she grieved. “I was then angry and bewildered that in 30 years it never occurred to us to try to buy that little piece of land (our lot was created from two people selling off the rear of their backyards). What might God be teaching me in this? Certainly, while so much changes, He is always the same. The forest was a gift, a blessing. But if it was ours to keep, the thought to buy it would’ve crossed our minds. We never thought it would change. Isn’t that like so much of life?”

“The presence of the bamboo forest was an unexpected surprise when we first walked this lot 30 years ago,” she explained. “When we began to experience God’s ‘signs’ to adopt our daughter from China, I often said the bamboo forest was one of them. We just didn’t know it. When we brought her home, we felt there was a small piece of her heritage in our backyard and told her so.”

“Now it’s time to rebuild,” she related to many who have lost much during this period of pandemic. “Landscapers have been called. We can’t replace the bamboo forest, but hopefully we can create something different and yet beautiful. Thanks for coming last night and giving me one last opportunity to enjoy our space in the shadow of the bamboo. I now know it’s one reason I felt urgency to host our ‘pop up’.”

“Wow,” I replied. “What an honor to be with you in your sacred sanctuary on the final night of your beautiful bamboo forest. I just read your email after writing our blog post this morning. I join in your sadness. What a surprising loss. I am sorry for you losing that lovely, nurturing layer of private, peaceful protection.”

Our post this morning was about finding a black acorn,” I explained. “I had never seen one before. I came home from my walk and researched why some acorns are black. I learned that black acorns fall under stress as immature seeds die mid-growth. So many cherished people and things are falling off mid-growth in the stress of 2020, but the Scripture God led me to is this:

“But let My vineyard look to Me for protection and nurture; let it seek My peace; let it seek My peace” (Isaiah 27:5, VOICE).

“I pray for you as you seek God’s peace, looking to our Lord for protection and nurture as you are guided to rebuild your back yard sanctuary,” I concluded. I went back to sleep and woke again, sending a second email.

“I woke again and re-read our email exchange,” I shared. “It just really hurts my heart. It reminds me of the stunned pain of having a very growing twenty-something year friendship abruptly cut off because I was teaching on the Enneagram at church. My longtime friend had listened to a podcast saying that the Enneagram was a “lion devouring our churches.” In one phone call a beautiful future vision for our friendship was ‘bulldozed at 7:00 am.’ Shocking surprise hurts so much and I am still living the question, ‘Why, God, why?’ I think so many people have experienced the feeling of ‘being bulldozed’, the stress of beloved people and seeds of passion dying mid-growth. It is so painful, and the only remedy is trusting God to tend to our vineyard, seeking the peace that surpasses our human understanding.”

“I read your post about the black acorn several times,” she replied. “And I read the verse at least five or six times. It was so personal. I know God was telling me to look to him for nurturing and peace…and not to depend on the beautiful sanctuary that surrounded me for that. It’s a hard pivot for those of us who look for and see God in nature.”

“It was an adjustment for me this morning,” she admitted. “I journaled that I had to forgive this family’s decision so I don’t grow a bitter root. I prayed for the three young children whose voices I could hear and then I saw one of them running to the back of their open expanse. I heard the voice of their father who was out watching them so early. How lucky they are to have a dad to do that. I hope they remember the joy of play.”

“I know others have suffered so much during this pandemic and the loss of my bamboo sanctuary may appear trivial,” she shared. “It was indeed my tipping point. I’m so sorry for the surprising loss of your friendship over the disagreement on the value of the Enneagram. I understand that ‘bulldozed’ feeling of surprise and asking God ‘why’? And, wondering how or if you missed the signs along the way. Why can’t we all be like Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Antonin Scalia and share a deep friendship in spite of our differing views?”

Losses come in many forms. Black acorns dying mid-growth. A beautiful bamboo forest, bulldozed. The abrupt end to a cherished friendship. A plethora of people are losing jobs, homes, money, sleep, peace, sanity, comfort, safety, respect, civility, health, loved ones, predictability, and a false sense of security, as the stresses of 2020 continue transform our inner landscape.

As we experience the feeling of “being bulldozed” by life, God’s truth remains the same: “But let My vineyard look to Me for protection and nurture; let it seek My peace; let it seek My peace” (Isaiah 27:5, VOICE).

…Sue…