It Was dark, dank and quiet as I lay in the dirt, my life force locked up like a safe holding the most valuable of elements. The key had yet to find its mark. Days turned into weeks, then months and then a year. The sun made its journey higher into the sky and began to warm the earth, spilling energy and life on the ground like a long lost friend, returning from and extended trip. The key had founds its mark. My life force began to stir and move, changing me, Forever.
Many suns and many moons marked the passage of time as I reached and stretched towards the sky, extending my branches outward, as well, to accept the birds and animals that found shelter among my leaves and under my boughs. Winds and rains pummeled me, yet I stood strong. The very history of my world stored its memories and story in my trunk. I knew what I was made to do. I released oxygen. I was shelter. I was life giving. Life was right and complete.
The sound on that day cut through the air in the same way that the saw cut through the fibers of my flesh. I could no longer stand and I hit the earth with a crash! Why? How can this be? Who will I be? What will I become?
Cut into pieces, my wholeness forever gone, I was changed.
Separated.
Left to dry out and die.
For months, I sat in pieces. No longer able to experience the sun warming me or the earth feeding me. The wind blew cold. I could no longer sway and move with it, I could only lie helplessly. My will broken.
What will I become?
The hammer struck me over and over as my parts were nailed to the frame of the barn. New purpose began to dawn and a different kind of life began to write its story on the boards that my flesh had made. There were those nervous or bored horses that chewed on my edges like a pacifier. An angry mare left her mark as she kicked the walls of her prison. Small rodents scurried up and down in search of another meal. Once again I was shelter in the storms, watching closely as new life was birthed in this space that I provided. Many suns and moons marked the passage of time. Life once again was comfortable and predictable.
The day came when the horses and animals were sold off and left my protection. No longer were my walls a home or nursery. Abandoned to the elements, the roof began to leak and the cold wind whistled through the cracks in the winter and the sweltering musty heat in the summer caused my fibers to swell. Dirt became a cloak that covered every inch of me. Loneliness enveloped me. What will become of me now? Sadness overwhelmed me as my purpose again escaped me. I just existed.
Spring was birthing new life again. New faces and voices that I had never heard before surrounded me. Ripped from the barn frame, my pieces all thrown and piled to the side, I once again questioned my purpose. The beauty and grain of the fibers of my flesh were covered in years of dirt and forgottenness. Surely I was done. No purpose left here, just a future of decay. At least in my decay I can once again contribute to the story of life.
Her touch was one that sent filaments of life and energy through me. I had not felt such energy since the days with my roots deeply embedded into the earth. She picked up my pieces one at a time and placed them in her truck. Later, unloaded in a heap on the concrete, she scrubbed away the years of dirt and grime that had cloaked me. She marveled at the beauty the years had painted upon me. The marks from the saw that tore me “limb from limb”, she saw as character. Shades of gray that the years of sun, wind and rain had left behind spoke of the passage of time. She honored it. My remaining pieces laid out and arranged just right, her eyes lit up and she realized just what she was going to create.
Consumed by the flame of her torch, bit by bit she turned by grain patterns into a charred, blackened mess. An element that I ,as of yet, had never experienced. Now I knew that I would return to the earth as dust. But I was wrong. Slowly she scrubbed away the blackened mess the fire had left behind and again I was cleaned of this new black cloak. My grain patterns, again visible, revealed new hues of colors. Iridescent shades of reds and golds reflected back the light as it caressed me.
My boards were laid out with glue in between each one, carefully sorted and placed just so. I was squeezed between the clamps with so much pressure I felt I would be crushed by the weight of it. No relief in sight. Hours passed before the clamps were released. Realization came to me….once again my parts had been made One. Two small table tops.
Oil was poured over me and rubbed lovingly into fibers. Such a balm. The red and gold hues were highlighted and reflected the light back through those burned fibers. Layer after layer of oil was rubbed into me, bringing out all of the beauty and character that my experiences and written there.
Again, I still had purpose.
Now the warmth of family love is my companion instead of the warmth of the sun. Winds of laughter blow over and around, much like the winds that I experienced in my youth. The only rain I now endure are the tears of heartache or joy as my family sits around me sharing their lives. Many suns and many moons will find me as a center piece of my family’s living space. The shelter that I now provide has changed form and function, but I have purpose yet to fulfill.
We are all on a journey experiencing many joys and sorrows, ecstasy and pain, hopelessness and purpose. And so we will again…..and again….and again. Our lives will be broken, repurposed, healed and recycled in unpredictable ways. Every moment, every tear, every heartache, every tearing down and building back up will all carry purpose. All of it can create a beauty that is unachievable without the experiences that lie ahead. Many we will experience together and many we will experience alone. The important thing to remember here is that God has ordained each of us in unique and amazing ways to walk out our purpose no matter where it leads us. To BE what He has created, to the fullest BEING you can possibly BE. Stay close to your Creator as He unfolds the path before you.
~Amy Dudley
December 2017
onewayperday 