Oaks of Righteousness

Shortly after my husband and I were married, we were introduced to one of Northern California’s hidden gems.  The Sea Ranch is a 16-mile stretch of quiet homes and tall grassed meadows that hug the craggy Mendocino coast line.  The community’s intentional lack of lighting and architectural emphasis on privacy makes the idea of plucking stars from the sky as accessible as plucking cherries from a tree.  The most worrisome of thoughts and idle chit-chat are quickly drowned out by the thunderous roar of the ocean crashing against the cliffs below.  The unnerving anger of the insatiable waves is stilled only by the consistency of its lull . . . a perpetual reminder that we serve an awesome God of unbridled power Who chooses to love us with unwavering tenderness.

One of the things we enjoy most about Sea Ranch is the unapologetic lack of things “to do.”  We are left to drink in a good book, cuddle up for popcorn and a movie, visit the tide pools along the shore, take a nap, or perhaps even venture out for a round of golf . . .  if super motivated.  Without question, our favorite activity is to walk along the paths that meander through the ranch and overlook the cliffs.  The sea is forever captivating and few things parallel a western sunset overlooking the Pacific.  However, in recent years, I’ve been increasingly drawn to the wind-swept oak trees we find there.  They stand in a permanent brace against the wind, unyielding in their strength, twisted, strangely gnarled at points, and yet majestically beautiful as their graceful branches reach towards the sea as if to feel the spray of the crashing waves upon their faces.  They are a perfect illustration of beauty in resilience.

During the first dozen years of our marriage, my husband and I weathered a series of storms that left us with more than a few gnarled branches.   To God’s glory, He chose to plant our roots firmly intertwined right from the beginning, and we were able to lean into the storms together, growing ever stronger individually and as a couple.  God has called my bluff more than once on the “I could never handle it if . . . happened.”  He has met me with His mercies, healed me with His touch, and fortified me with the peace only He can give.  He has taught me to thirst for righteousness and to pursue His Glory.  He has taught me that without Him, I am nothing more than a twig, easy to snap and ready to be tossed aside.

In Isaiah 61:3, the Lord writes about His chosen people during the Year of the LORD’s Favor.  He writes of how He will restore them to a place of freedom, comfort, gladness, and how “They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” I pray that, at the end of the day when I’ve done all I can to stand firm in the Lord and to fight the good fight, someone would find beauty in my gnarled hands and wrinkled eyes.  I pray they would see an oak of righteousness, one weathered, one resilient, one who reflects the splendor of her Maker.

Photos by Emily Semans of ESPhoto.org