We aren't sure how old they are, but we are certain they were here long before anyone dreamed of building a house on this land. These live oaks have witnessed things we can only imagine. They are special to me - for their faithfulness and their reminder that all things are made new.
I remember winter days, when we lived up north, looking out my living room windows at the stark landscape - the bare branches of the trees tracing dark lines across the sky - longing for signs of spring. It seemed so far away - as though winter would last forever. But here, in my South Texas home, the trees stand full and lush throughout the winter. It is a comfort.
Sometime around the beginning of March the leaves begin to grow brittle and brown They are scattered on the ground by the gusty winds - crunching under our feet as we walk. The trees are changing. Slowly, imperceptibly light green tassels form and then tiny new leaves. Before we know it, the trees are covered in that color green I can never find just the right word for. It is new life; it is pure; it is fresh.
The change from old to new has come gently. Before we could mourn the loss of the old leaves, new ones came to take their place. A bit like the work of the Spirit in the lives of those whose hearts are turned toward God. We go on living our lives as we have always done, and all the while there is something happening deep inside. A strong wind comes and blows away the old, and without our even being aware something new has come. New life born out of the old.
I'm at Laced With Grace today with the rest of this devotional. Please meet me there.