Clear-cutting—the phrase that strikes fear in the heart of every tree-lover, like me.
We’ve been advised a few times over the years to clear-cut some of our dense woods, and I have resisted that advice. Strongly and stubbornly. It takes a long, long time for a tree to get big, so why would I want to let someone cut down any of mine unless it’s absolutely, completely necessary?
I’m pretty sure several forestry consultants have a picture of me in their office with a red circle and slash through it.
I never wanted any part of my 75-acre “yard” to look like bombers had flown over and dropped their loads on it. But then the tornado happened. Acres and acres of our trees were broken, permanently bent over, or uprooted. There was no other remedy but to do the unthinkable: to allow the logging guys to clear-cut some sections.
My love for trees goes back a long way. I can remember being one sad little tyke when my parents had a huge walnut tree cut down in our front yard. Maybe, though I can’t remember, that big tree wasn’t healthy and my parents knew what a danger it posed. All I know is that none of the explanations my mom and dad offered made sense in my kid brain because those walnuts were perfect hand grenades when we played army in our “Leave it to Beaver” neighborhood, and that grand old tree provided wonderful shade when we were shooed outside to play in the summer.
I’m reliving that sadness now on a much huger scale as the front eight acres of woods on our land are bulldozed into oblivion. Thankfully, I can’t see the clear-cutting mess from my house, but every time I go down our driveway, I pass right through it. Someday, Lord willing, it will be green again, as we’re converting those acres into pastures, but right now it’s a depressing mess.
As I hear the rumble of heavy equipment whacking through our trees day after day, I’m grateful for the men doing that hard work, frustrated they’re having to do it, and saddened by the ugliness left in their wake.
And yet, as He is so wont to do, God is teaching me through it. Clear-cutting, He’s reminded me, isn’t just for trees. God often clear-cuts our lives, too—or at least it feels that way to us—as He works to make us more like His Son.
Like any good parent, God wants His children to be spiritually healthy, so He sometimes reshapes the landscape of our lives. His work always brings new growth, but sometimes that growth begins with a season of what feels like barrenness.
Before their epic public ministries began, Paul quietly waited in Arabia and Syria for several years, and Moses tended sheep for 40 years on the backside of the wilderness. Many years went by—years full of injustice, pain, despair and betrayal—between Joseph’s prophetic dream about his brothers bowing before him and the day it came to pass. Likewise, David had to wait a long time after he was anointed king of Israel to actually ascend to the throne, and for much of that time, he was literally running for his life.
Where was God in the lives of these heroes of our faith during their “barren” years of torturous waiting? He was right there, clear-cutting their lives and reshaping their character so they could better know, represent and serve Him.
Has God been doing some clear-cutting in your life lately? If so, take heart. He hasn’t left you. He’ll grow something new, just wait and see.
“For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” – Philippians 2:13