Big Trees, Small Spaces

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I know I’m a bit twisted, but I often see metaphors between the work a team is doing and the greater vision for the region we are working in. Told you I was weird. If you still doubt it, you can scroll back in the archives and read “High Heels and Motorcycles.” But today is a great example.

This morning our task loomed large—several evergreens, one a tall 40-footer (It looks similar to a juniper but much taller than the Colorado version) were growing near the back wall of the walled property. It overhangs a neighboring property filled with cane that is overgrown and neglected. Awhile back the team here watched helplessly from the roof with no available water pressure as the field burned and threatened to catch the evergreens on fire and thus threaten the buildings. No doubt the trees needed to come out. The small one wasn’t much challenge since it was leaning the direction we wanted to fell it. But the big guy was leaning the wrong way, or so we thought. The original plan was to take off all the limbs as high as I could go with the ladder and then tie on a rope to pull the trunk back in the direction toward open space. However, as the day progressed and I reached the upper limits of what I dared to cut off the ladder, clearing as we went, we still doubted our small team’s ability to pull the tree against its natural lean and in the direction we wanted.

Knowing the limit to our abilities, we eventually began considering the small opening between the wall and the satellite dish the radio station here uses to download some of its programming. It made me really nervous because if I missed the narrow opening when dropping the tree it would A) damage the wall and the newly installed flood lights, B) smash the satellite dish, pushing it off target and disrupting the plan for radio programming until someone could re-aim the dish, or C) if the tree was tall enough it could push a second pine tree into one of the previously noted obstacles. It definitely didn’t seem ideal, but it also seemed like the only way.

The work in this region seems to mirror this situation. Many times those who work here are forced to change their plans to adapt to the leanings in the creative access places they are working. From what I can tell they are often hemmed in with obstacles blocking the obvious direction they would like to go. If they make a wrong move the tree they are working with may smash against any number of obstacles, both spiritual and political. People could get hurt; lives are literally on the line. But as they toil away, taking down branch after branch, reaching as much of the tree as they can, working toward the task of bringing light to some very dark places, a small space is revealed—a place to drop the tree—a place to go. A narrow way, but a way nonetheless.

So with the rope tied on as high as I could reach, Dennis, Roger and Ingvar, got ready to pull. Chainsaw rattling, I made the wedge cut at the base, aiming carefully toward where the tree must fall. The back cut comes next, allowing the tree to hinge to the ground. As the wood begins to crack I retreat toward safety as I see the trunk accelerate with the rope’s hard tug. Someone yells “Timber!” and the tree crashes raucously to the ground right in the perfect position.

Just like He planned all along.

1 Corinthians 1:25: For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.