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The Hopeful Branch

There was a trail that I frequented as a kid that was in a forest near our house. I loved riding my bike through the tree-soaked paths without a care in the world, building forts and climbing trees. It was like I was away from all of mankind, in my hiding place, my sanctuary. Maybe there is something inherited about a love of the woods. I imagine Adam experienced the same things as he looked at the beauty of God’s creation. Did he look up through the trees at night under the moonlight and watch the bats fly around catching bugs like I did? Did he look at the twisted branches and ponder the paths of life?  He was like a newborn, was he not? In a lot of ways, trees remind me of how life should be lived. We are like branches, reaching to the heavens trying to grasp the substance of the sun, fully dependant on outside forces for our sustenance. Just as the branches move with the wind, our lives flow in the sway of life through the Spirit, which is where the make comes from. Season afte...