Grieving a Tree

When I first visited the house I would eventually buy, my first thought was how much I loved the gigantic oak in the front yard. It was impossibly tall, dappled the sunlight over the lawn and flowers, gracefully arched over the entire house.

To me, there really is nothing more lovely than a tree.

I didn’t even really mind all the leaves in the fall. Well, to be honest, I hired Tina’s crew of juvenile delinquents each year to do the raking for me. I’m as lazy as the grave.

So, imagine my sadness when I noticed a split in the trunk the other week. I called in the tree doctor and after a lot of careful evaluation and examination another split was discovered on the other side and the verdict was not good. Although it was a perfectly healthy, probably 150 year old tree, that could easily outlive me – it was failing. The fear was that once the leaves came in the wind would start to twist the tree and put enough stress on the trunk that the tree would fall over…demolishing either my house or the one next door. The only decision we could make was to take it down.

It actually hurt my heart to see the crew sawing off all the branches and feeding them into the chipper. I finally had to just leave – I couldn’t watch any more. It makes me sad to think that something God created back when the area was nothing but a farmer’s field could be so quickly reduced to dust.

I had to leave the afternoon of the chopping for a business trip so the first time I saw my now naked front yard was at night after a long flight home. I couldn’t believe how the whole approach had changed. It was a lot brighter (very strange) and you could definitely see more of the back yard and the neighbor’s house (not overly excited by either of these developments).

The tree bordered the driveway so I always had to take extra care when backing out of the garage to accommodate it. I instinctively made the same twist this morning and felt bad all over again when I realized that the driveway is now totally open. Sniff.

Jeff says that we will do something new this spring to commemorate the loss. I know that eventually I will forget what it was like when the tree was there. I hope not.

It's Vegas Baby!

Four Thirtysomethings in Vegas Learned That:

1. A tub for two isn’t all that romantic when the water is boiling hot





2. It’s really easy to get lost inside the Caesar’s Palace Forum Shops…really…it could happen to ANYONE…it doesn’t mean you’re dumb or anything





3. In-and-Out Burgers taste even better in a limo





4. If the bus has a lot of people in it, your husband is going to refuse to get on it and make you walk a mile and a half down the strip…and yes, your feet will hurt





5. There’s really only so much you can eat off even the best buffet





6. Going back to item #1…if you put a tablespoon of bubble bath in said tub for two you and turn on the Jacuzzi jets, you will create an erupting volcano of bubbles that will not only tower between you but will also cascade onto the floor beside you in waves





7. Slots-a-Fun hotdogs are the size of a baby’s arm…but a bargain at $1.49!





8. If getting a cheap flight means leaving for the airport at 3:00 a.m. – pass





9. There’s nothing better than eating a cup of gelato while watching the Bellagio fountains





10. Even good Baptist girls can catch gambling fever!

Mountain Climbing

I am working as a "communications coach" for a couple of presenters at my company's annual leadership conference. Mostly that means that on top of whatever other reponsibilities I have, I will now add a series of 4 hour meetings to my week (thank goodness for wireless networks) and help an executive (or 2 in my case) bring their thoughts to "life" with power point, video production, wordsmithing, design assistance, etc. It makes for a long couple of weeks. The conference begins on Tuesday morning...it is Thursday and I have just received the 3rd "brand new concept" from my presenter. I don't have any words of response to this.

But enough of my complaining...because really, the above paragraph was just to serve as a segue into what I really wanted to talk about. And I didn't even get to the part that was going to segue into the segue. So, here we go again.

My presenter is working on the "inspirational" portion of his speech (oh dear) and he is using a metaphor he got out of a recent business book (oh dear II). It's all about looking at your business like a mountain and employees like climbers. What follows is an exerpt from the speech: "Permit me to explain what I mean by daily commitment with a comparison to climbing. A book entitled The Adversity Challenge separated climbers into three different categories. First are “quitters.” Quitters plan to reach the peak. They’ve got all the right equipment, the desire and the skill. But, they are not prepared to conquer the impediments along the way to success. They go part way – and then quit.

"The second group are “campers.” Campers work hard, apply themselves, and overcome enough obstacles that they feel at ease planting their tent stakes and settling in – they’ve done enough, have attained a certain level of achievement and are comfortable camping out in their comfort zone.

“Climbers” are the rare breed who continue to grow, strive, push, battle, focus, and improve – every day – until they reach the peak and know they have given it their absolute all. No achievement other than the ultimate achievement will do.

"According to a poll of more than 150,000 leaders across all industries worldwide, nearly 80% of the workforce is camping. I am challenging you to climb."

OK...do you feel inspired, you pathetic quitter/camper??? Are you ready to do WHATEVER IT TAKES to help Steelcase succeed????

This cheesy "inspirational moment" couldn't help but cause me to reflect on other ways that mountains have been used lately as a metaphor in my life. And I thought of two.

At our Bible study last night we were talking about when Paul and Silas were imprisoned and how their prison cell became a place of ministry. Which led to a conversation about trusting God's will in both the good and bad times. We agreed that our "mountain top" experiences rarely led to a time of spiritual growth. When life is easy and times are good, it's easy to lose the imperative to pray and grow...I mean, what are we praying for or growing towards? If everything is going great then what would we need to ask of God or get from Him?

It's usually the "valley" experiences that drive us toward a desperate call to God. We question why, we ask for answers, for faith, for endurance, for wisdom to face the challenges we are experiencing.

When I look back over the landscape of my personal history, I have experienced the most spiritual growth, was the most dependent on God and ultimately gained the most from valley experiences. The mountain top is where I want to be -- but it's in the valley that I am closest to God.

My friend Sharon put it another way. She read a book that talked about the comparative beauty and majesty of plains and mountains. We all want to be in the plains...consistent, almost blah in its predictability...life is good in the plains. But, the mountains -- unpredictable, buffeted by winds and weather, carved out by the beating of water and the shifting earth -- have the greater majesty.

And just like literal mountains, when hard times leave their marks on us, when the unpredictability of weather and the ground moving beneath us changes us, it makes us more beautiful, more majestic, more awesome.

I don't generally veer into this type of reflection here -- but when my presenter started talking about mountains like a "successories" poster (http://www.successories.com/index.cfm/fuseaction/home.home/successories_country/USA/home.cfm?CMP=KNC-GOOG&gclid=CNjhp83SjYoCFSoIFQodmlXNRQ) it actually inspired me in a totally different way.

So, does that make me a climber, a camper or a quitter?