for shallow3 roots, and how trees that weren’t watered had to grow deep roots in search of moisture4. I took him to mean that deep roots were to be treasured.
So he never watered his trees. He’d planted an oak and, instead of watering it every morning, he’d beat it with a rolled-up newspaper. Smack!Slap!Pow!I asked him why he did that, and he said it was to get the tree’s attention.
Dr. Gibbs went to glory a couple of years after I left home. Every now and again, I walked by his house and looked at the trees that I’d watched him plant some twenty-five years ago. They’re granite strong now. Big and robust.
I planted a couple of trees a few years back. Carried water to them for a solid summer. Sprayed them. Prayed over them. The whole nine yards. Two years of coddling has resulted in trees that expect to be waited on hand and foot. Whenever a cold wind blows in, they tremble and chatter their branches.
Funny things about those trees of Dr. Gibbs’. Adversity5 and deprivation seemed to benefit them in ways comfort and ease never could.
Every night before I go to bed, I pray for my two sons. Mostly I pray that their lives will be easy. But lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time to change my prayer.
So I’m changing my prayer. Because life is tough, whether we want it to be or not. Too many times we pray for ease, but that’s a prayer seldom met. What we need to do is pray for roots that reach deep into life, so when the rains fall and the winds blow, we won’t be swept asunder6.