Weeping Willow Tree of God

Rain rivulets run down my windshield as I turn into the drive.The storm from earlier has soaked the long driveway.I'm carrying my mother home after a night with the family.She has a far off distant look in her eyes of a time I can't see."I can remember when..."she goes
on to say.Speaking of days long past of family closeness and love."It's not the same anymore.""What do you mean?""People just don't have time for each other.
Family ties don't mean much.They come unraveled with the passing of years,"she seemed to tear up as she said it.Falling silent after that,I walked her to the door and kissed her good night.Driving back up the driveway and down the road I have traveled down a hundred times I wonder.I notice the weeping willow as it's long branches stretch out into the wind. Normally they droop as if saddened.Now it's as if reaching to something that just isn't there.Mom is alot like that.Reaching to the past and finding noone there to reach back to her.So much of her family has passed on. As I observe that tree, I see roots stretching up out of the very ground to reach the water that comes from the spring rains. My hands feel like the roots of that tree trying to find water to sustain life.Oh,so desperately trying to sustain life to our family ties.

The family tree has become like a weeping willow, mourning for the loss of family.And as each root searches for that connection to a family tie, that family member cuts that root off as soon as it starts to appear either by death or neglect.Pretty soon enough family members do that the tree dies.I ,in my way, have become the gardener of that tree.Grasping at the ties that bind,only to discover the unraveling. I reach out only to have my hand slapped away, and the roots cut.So I struggle in vain to keep memories of simpler times alive.For memories is what the family tree lives on.That is the living water it so longingly searches for.When the tree finds the water,it only discovers another tree has been planted in it's place.So the old tree's roots are cut by one more person and left to die.But the new tree never grows very big.In the process of trying to forget their past, they create a future with little eyes watching and learning.These little eyes grow up believing that old things are to be discarded,even family ties.So they cut the new tree down when it grows old.And so I struggle to remember stories,of times I recall,so my children know who they are and that family comes first.You always stand up for family.They may not be perfect,but they are after all part of the same tree.Whether connected through grandparents,cousins,aunts or uncles,there is something to be said about pulling together in the tough times.No branch is better or more important than the other in the family tree, and the roots run deep underneath the rich,southern soil.
So my search carried me, in a dream,to the shade of a weeping willow tree long neglected and forgotten by others.Underneath I find the Father.I hear a sobbing sound."What is that sound?"I ask."That is the sound that you just now begin to hear,"he explains,"For you see, I made the tree to weep.""But why I ask?"I inquire."Because you cannot at times.For too long you have refused to shed a tear for your fellow brothers and sisters.So I have made something to cry for you.Each time a hurt comes, a drop of water falls from the leaves of that tree. It cries with those who are alone and no comfort can find."

I awaken to discover my soul searching has carried me to a place where I find another piece of my soul. A piece that lain beneath the Weeping Willow Tree of God.

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

Psalm 137:1-2

By

Lance Gargus