Journal 2006

I hear the words “Abide in Me,” but I need a visual to make them more concrete. I picture myself in a hollow tree (if you know my affinity for trees, this should not surprise you) with a door and some windows in the trunk. It’s cozy inside, and I can rest (abide in Christ), or work if I choose, tidying up my space.

The inside of the tree is lined with a bread-like substance that I can munch on when I’m hungry. It always replenishes itself. And water? No problem. There’s a fountain of living water in the center.

When doubters peer through my windows, I can choose to believe their lies or I can tell them to go away. When I reject them, angels take their place to guard me.

In this visual, the tree house does not represent salvation. I could choose to step outside of the house—but there is no protection there from the elements and from the wolves. Better to stay inside and trust God to bring people to the door so we can fellowship with each other, and I can teach them the lessons I’ve learned.

If Jesus asks me to, I’m willing to leave my safe, cozy shelter. But first I must arm myself with the weapons of warfare, the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. Why would I venture outside the tree? There are a few lost souls who are too weak to crawl to the door, and I need to find them, carry them to my house, and nurse them back to health. I may have to hand-feed them until they’re strong enough to feed themselves.

A 2024 Update. I may need to rethink this metaphor. I was processing life through a codependency grid back then, believing it was my job to rescue people. If I’m abiding in Christ, aren’t I taking my treehouse with me wherever I go? But why do I need warfare weapons if I’m inside my house? What other visual would help?