Oak trees, journeys and the lessons I'm slow to learn

I’ve learned a lesson or two in the past few years…

At the moment, I’m learning that some lessons have to be learned again...And again...And again. Maybe it’s human nature — this inability for lessons to stick in our heads, this necessity for them to be repeated over and over, only for us to trip over them once more, with a vague sense of familiarity. I have recently stumbled upon a lesson that I thought I had learned, but it appears that, despite writing a book about it, it is still something that I have to learn again.

That lesson is about the process of growing; the steps of the journey.

I'm not very good at patience: I want everything now. When I set a goal, I want to achieve it right away. I don’t want that achievement to take time, because time brings with it frustration, disappointment, even pain and, let’s be honest, who wants those things?

However, what I have learned at many times, in many ways, is that, without the disappointment, the frustration and the pain, the goal cannot be achieved, the destination cannot be reached. If I hadn’t gone through days of frustration as a physio, feeling like work took all my energy and sometimes all my joy, I never would have discovered the things that actually make me come alive, I never would have taken steps to turn my life in a different direction. If I hadn’t been disappointed by relationships I had placed my hope in, life would have looked very different, and probably not for the good. If I hadn’t gone through pain that led to jealousy and lack of trust and even self loathing, I wouldn’t have moved to the other side of the world, where I experienced healing that I had never believed possible.

It is through those things, those excruciating and draining things, that we learn, that we grow.

Without the journey, there is no destination.

Just before I left Durham, someone gave me this verse: “They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his glory” (Isaiah 61:3). I don’t have to tell you that oaks do not grow overnight; they grow over years and years, but the thing is, it’s not just when they are fully grown that they display God’s splendour. Have you ever looked at an oak tree and thought, "that would be more impressive if it was a little taller, had a few more branches"? Probably not. They display God’s glory at every stage of their being, and it’s the same for us. God is not just glorified in the end product, not just in perfection; He can be glorified in the ups and the downs, the triumphs and failures, the lessons and heartaches, the joy and the sorrow.

God is glorified in the journey.

PS. Dear friends who know a thing or two about trees...I realise the picture is not an oak tree. Ten points if you know what it is.