Acorns and legacy

Mepkin Abbey Labyrinth
Moncks Corner, SC

I walked the labyrinth with my friend. 

It was a simple mowed path in a field of  early spring wildflowers and the mowing left a path wide enough for us to walk in silence side by side
to the five or six wood benches set in the center.
 We sat quietly - I had explained the purpose of a labyrinth in the Christian faith- quieting your spirit on the walk in and going out with renewed peace from your time with God.  Walk in silence to the center - knowing you cannot get lost, trusting the winding path to lead you to your destination, listening for the quiet voice of God.


And there in the center we sat and waited on the Lord. Sometimes  a word or a Scripture comes to mind, sometimes a lesson from His heart.



And as we ambled out, we talked quietly about incorporating our thoughts and lessons into our lives - the world that was waiting at the end of the labyrinth.  




My lesson was a picture.  An acorn.

This labyrinth is in a cleared field surrounded by live oaks. Huge, old, sturdy trees that shelter the ground beneath them.  My friend and I are both becoming matriarchs- she is grandmother to eight and I am waiting for my first grandchild to be born, another will arrive in December.

These trees are the matriarchs of the forest.

Middleton Plantation Charleston

Live oak branches, left uncut, bend down to the ground and touch, then rest on the earth. Then roots grow from the branches into the ground and new shoots grow straight up off the thick limbs.


 The Angel Oak on Johns Island near Charleston has been left to grow and we drove right past it, assuming it was a grove of trees or bushes. http://www.sciway.net/sc-photos/charleston-county/angel-oak.html/angel-oak-sc

It created its own forest.
The shaded area is over 17,000 square feet.

All this began with a single acorn.

Our lives, our faith, our families - all came from a small beginning.  Man and woman meet and create a baby.  Our hearts seek and He meets us and His Spirit waters our tiny seed of faith.  Our own meeting and mating produced our families.

We marveled at the enormous potential for the acorns we planted and the ones that were planted before us- our lives are part of a giant living organism called life and it is worth marveling at. The Angel Oak was spared but many oaks were cut for the strength of those twisted, thick branches. Branches that became ships and sailed the Atlantic or up nearby rivers.  What wonder to think that these live oaks were here for the people who came from Britian to the colonies hundreds of years ago and our grandchildren could now play under some of the same branches. How somber to think of the people brought from Africa who may have found rest under their spread.

What shade these giants offer, what respite, what history.

Angel Oak surrounded by long branches with new growth

I have moved on from Charleston and it's lovely trees.  I am back in Jacksonville, North Carolina and the  Marine Corps base, Camp Lejuene.  In June, I will remember the acorn that was planted when my first lieutenant husband and I brought our firstborn home from the hospital here on this base.  Our small  family was created that day.  And now my Marine son-in-law works in an office in the building that was once a hospital, the very hospital where I labored.  And his wife, my only daughter, walks this Marine base, carefully cradling her belly and waiting to deliver their first child in the new hospital down the street.  My life is coming to full circle.

If I am an oak tree, my branches are bending down to the earth to create the next generation of trees. We are all creating something greater than its beginning. We will have a legacy as visible as a spreading oak.

 We turn to the Son for our source of life.  We put our roots down deep- or in the case of the live oak, we spread our roots wide to receive water and nourishment. Lord, grow us strong. Provide what we need.  Don't let us be afraid of the necessary pruning in youth or the propping in old age.  Let our lives provide a place of haven and respite for others.  May the world marvel at the wonders of what You can do - not only in  a tree but in a life faithfully lived.

To God be the glory!