“Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy” (1 Chron. 16:33)

“And into the forest I go,
to lose my mind and find my soul” – John Muir

God loves trees. This is certainly the view of Scripture. Lone trees, forests, trees growing in gardens or by streams. They give shade, fruit, lumber. They sing for joy (Ps. 96:12) and clap their hands (Is. 55:12) for the Lord. They were created by God in the beginning and will be with us forever in Paradise. And on the Cross, it was a tree that bore our ancient curse of death and budded forth the eternal fruit of Life for the whole of creation.

And so trees are also a sign of God’s love. Pope Francis:

The entire material universe speaks of God’s love, His boundless affection for us. Soil, water, mountains: everything is, as it were, a caress of God.

From my earliest memories, I remember being enamored by trees. They were full of magic and mystery. In our home’s backyard in Rhode Island, where I spent the first six years of my life, we had a row of white pines that seemed to me to be as immense as sequoias! We also had a crabapple tree on the side of our house that would bear prolific fruit in the early summer, all of which would end up on the ground. In fact, my first experience of inebriated birds was watching (I think) blue jays eat the fermented apples and then have a hard time flying away – at least that was my oldest brother’s interpretation!

When we moved to Massachusetts, my parents bought a home with a sizeable patch of ‘woods’ in the back of the house (the sideways photo above is of a garden my brother and I planted in 1978 at the edge of those trees). I was in heaven. Until about the age of twelve, whenever I was not in school, I would spend most of my time in those woods. It was populated by, among other varieties, sugar maples, white pines, quaking aspens, white birches, red and white oaks, and my favorite tree of all, the blue spruce. I knew every tree, bush, rock, bird nest, ant mound, salamander haunt and snake’s lair. That patch of trees was for me a sanctuary of solitude and quiet, perfectly shaped to resonate the songs of birds, translate the wind into a rustle or whisper, and hide me from people. When I was there, all was well.

Many years later, my wife, children and I went back to visit – and I was crushed to see that patch of trees had been completely leveled and a house built there. With none of the original trees left.

Where we live now is sparse on trees, and many of the trees we do have in our area have been knocked down by recent hurricanes that have come through. A deep gap in my soul. But whenever we travel to a place where there are trees, I try to find time to go out and visit. Such joy! I love to pray Isaiah 44:23:

Sing, O heavens, for the Lord has done it;
shout, O depths of the earth;
break forth into singing, O mountains,
O forest and every tree in it!
For the Lord has redeemed Jacob
and will be glorified in Israel.

Amid trees is where I pray best, accompanied by Joyce Kilmer:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

So may I encourage you today, or soon, to give thanks to God for trees; to appreciate, notice and celebrate their beauty; to plant a tree; or to remember the way a tree communicated something good, beautiful or true to you. Slow down and look up!