Trees, in a certain respect, are stationary. When you plant one, you can return again and again and find it exactly where you left it.

For some, this feels unsettling—perhaps even boring. Yet the tree offers an extraordinary witness.

Trees bend toward the light. Their branches stretch upward and outward, offering shelter in their limbs, fruit on their boughs, and shade beneath their leaves. Their roots press deep and spread wide, searching the soil for water and nutrients. Trees are earth‑movers—slow, subtle, and stealthy.

Though grounded, trees are always growing.
Moving.
Transforming—and being transformed by everything around them.

They appear static, but they are never stagnant.
Stable but not stuck.

They shape their surroundings even as they are shaped by them. Their silhouettes define landscapes, and their roots quietly shift the ground beneath our feet.

When we are shown where to stand, we can be like trees.
We can move the world.

Be like the tree.

Grounded and growing.
Stable, not stuck.
Static, but not stagnant.
Stretching toward the light while staying true to its roots.

The Psalm writer says it this way:

They are like trees
planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and whose leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.

Psalm 1:3

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam