When one comes from a land populated by more trees than people, one can overlook them. Pay them no mind, or even grouse about the needles that fall on our roofs, decks and obscure our views. But in Senegal—in all of Africa—where trees are fewer, and the horizon wider (I dream of it, I know it must be, though my brain tells me horizons are actually always the same distance!), reigns most miraculous of all trees. Usually it stands alone on a grassy plain, monstrously wide, its trunk gray and wrinkled like the giant elephants that wander the continent, its limbs spreading crooked clumpy claws across the horizon. The baobab tree.
Just like we do, finding life where: “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His appearance that we should desire Him.” (Isaiah 53: 2) Isn't this amazing? I was awestruck when I read of this tree, a metaphor for the One who gives us Life. We also have that baobab tree, standing high across the landscape of our lives. Don’t we? We can make our homes in Him, while He grows up around us and continues to breathe. The landmark when we need to point others to the Way. Health in Him. Sustenance, hope, poetry. Rope when we need to pull someone along, or hang on ourselves. We have it all in Christ.
“And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God, does not have life.” 1 John 5:12