What shape will others see when I am gone? I keep seeing all the wonderful tree sculptures all about. Just as the buds blanket the branches of the world around them, these statues of wood that have served their seasons become obvious. Each one tells a different story. My eyes are drawn to the shape of their growth or struggle for survival. The green spreads through the branches around them, life growing and preparing to make seeds and fruit. Those too old to grow anymore are left barren, their shape pointing upwards to their Maker. Reaching outward, outward and twisting in all directions...each tree taking a different shape. Its skin showing, bark no more, the gray tower speaks of the life it lived.
What shape will others see when I am gone? The twists, turns, and stature Will I look balanced, or will I show that weather and man has pruned me with no thought of the intended shape of my Maker. I want to know that I will be left standing pointing upwards to the one who made me. The seeds of a life full of love and growth spread about. The wounds of my past will be long grown over, and my shape will be cast against the gorgeous sky painted by the One who made me.
"1For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth." (Psalm 139:13-15 NIV)
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