Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. —Psalm 90:1 (niv)
We had a tree-housewarming celebration last Sunday afternoon. Seven grandchildren, three sets of parents, my husband, Lynn, and I circled the trunk of a tree in the waning sunshine as my son Derek pounded the final nail in the wooden structure he’d been constructing for the past several weekends. We took pictures and gave loud cheers for the tree-house builder.
I grew up on this land, and when I was a child, my grandfather built a tree house in a huge cottonwood tree at the bottom of the hill below our house. A farmer owned the property, but he was happy to have a tree house there because nobody lived anywhere near that tree—except a bunch of cows.
That tree house became my place of sacred solitude. I remember lying on my back on the planks of wood and looking up through the huge green leaves at the panorama of sky. I’m sure that’s where I learned how quickly clouds can change shape and move across the sky. It’s also where God became real to me. I felt His nearness and I didn’t have to use words to talk to Him. I believed He could hear me and He cared about me. No wonder I went to the tree house when I felt lonely or sad.
When our children were growing up on the same land, they, too, visited the tree house, but eventually the land was sold and new homes sprouted up. New children discovered the tree house, and over time, the boards in the branches of the tree disappeared.
So as I stood, looking up at this new tree house, I prayed that it might become the same kind of place for some of these grandchildren as the old one had been for me: a place to look up at the sky and realize, maybe for the first time, that God is real.
Father, bless this tree house and all the sacred places where we discover ourselves in You.
Download your FREE ebook, Daily Devotionals: 7 Days of Bible Devotions to Strengthen Your Faith.
