There is a tree in my park that kneels low on the banks of the pond. In the quiet winter months, I often descended from the path and perched on its branch just over the water. There I could be alone with my thoughts and the stillness.
I often wondered how a tree could get into such a position, reaching horizontally from its trunk to its top until finding the ground at the water’s edge. Was it overwhelmed by a storm as a sapling? Did a small boy “ride” it down the hill when it was too young to defend itself? And those angled branches kneeling on the bank, how did they end up bending, not breaking, but growing out even further to reflect their leaves on the black water or provide a strong arm for one who dares to walk on the freeze?
The kneeling tree can’t share its story, but it knows mine well. I too had a past of affliction, stress and loads too heavy. I too needed to find my bottom, humble myself and kneel, and then live on to continue the plan God has for me.
More than the many benches scattered around the park, more than the low wall surrounding the memorial gardens, this kneeling tree brought me to a deep place of rest. I know that when I fall on my face or on my knees, Jesus meets me right there. He hears me, He heals me and He helps me stretch onward.
And it happened when He was in a certain city, that behold, a man who was full of leprosy saw Jesus; and he fell on his face and implored Him, saying, “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.” Then He put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.” Luke 5:12-13
Meeting God at the Park 