“Because you have not heard the trees clap their hands does not mean that they don’t.”McClandish Phillips
Not only do they clap, but they speak and they have more to say than you might believe. On a warm spring afternoon, I drove to where I knew the dogwoods grew profusely. I was not disappointed. The branches were dancing in a graceful swaying motion to the song of the sunshine and the southern breezes and the dogwood spoke to me.
The petals like cups each had four petals and in each was a red notch and the center was a golden crown. It is certainly the perfect bloom for April. The comparison has been made that the four petals are like the cross. The notches of crimson the blood stained holes made by nails in Jesus’s hands and feet when he died in our place. The crown like the crown of the everlasting King of Kings; gold for His glory; the white of the petals for the washing of our hearts and souls from sin.
The dogwood spoke to me of Jesus––His death on the cross and His resurrection as the King of all. They told me He loved me.
The pure white after a hard brown winter spoke new life. The blossoms spoke hope. They spoke renewal and glory and beauty to our pain-riddled world.
The dogwoods said I have much to be thankful for. They said God is a promiser who keeps His promises. They said,”Trust Him who can imagine such loveliness and make it spring out of nothing with His voice.” They said, “Don’t be afraid. Remember God is with us here.” He didn’t choose to stay far but He came and filled the earth with life and clothed it with trees, grasses, and wildflowers. He is in charge.
We face many hardships and struggles this year, many trials and many frustrations, but the dogwood told me not to give up, not to grow angry or bitter or overwhelmed, but to look up to where my help comes from––from the Lord who made heaven and earth.
The dogwood bloom said I should be like him––an open cup raised to the Savior––the Lord Jesus, drinking in light and catching raindrops, growing, stretching, reaching, representing Him during harsh times.
They told me I can always trust the Creator. Or maybe the Creator Himself was the one I heard that day under the dogwood trees––saying: “Lo, I am with you always even onto the end of the age.”
Read further: Psalm 121 I will lift up my eye to the hills; From whence comes my help comes. My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. Psalm 61 When my heart is overwhelmed lead me to the rock that is higher than I.