What we're made for

There was a year I drew trees: giant redwoods, gnarled oaks, palms, magnolias. I think I drew every tree in Edinburgh’s botanic garden! Even going to get groceries,

I’d stop the car by an oak, pull a sketchbook from my bag, and trace out the majesty. What captivated me? It was the strength of their trunks. They weren’t going anywhere. Rain or shine, they stood calm. Unfazed. I was drawn to their solidity at a time when there was little.

There are a handful of trees in the biblical writings, and the description in verse 3 is one of the most beautiful. It pulsates with energy, does what it’s made for; it flourishes! The solidity of it draws us in—the seasons, the river, the fruit, the green.

The strength it describes comes from a choice not to stop growing; not to spend days mocking those who pass by (verse 1). The health comes from long meditation on wisdom that works, on values that honor—we can drink deeply of that life-giving stream. It’s where we will grow; he sings, and where we’ll find peace.

On this riverbank, we become what we’re made for.