As Birch Trees DO

It was September 2, 2002, Labor Day Weekend. I was going through a lot at that time in my life. I had just been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in February. I also happened to be “saved” the day before. I had a profound spiritual awakening with this experience, so I was hungry and desperate for God. I started the day on my knees, empty handed, asking for something to fill them with so I could give it back to him. I just remember wanting to give back to God, as if my every movement and my very life depended on it.

On this particular morning I went to the North Club to attend a support group I was a member of. I sat in the lobby to have a cup of coffee and a cigarette. I looked up and saw Bear. I had never met him before, but his reputation preceded him. He’s what we would commonly refer to as an “Old Timer” around the club. I am not sure if he was actually this tall, but he seemed like he was seven feet or better. His presence was huge. He wore dark blue bib overalls with a white t-shirt, exposing his full sleeve tattooed arms. He walked on thin legs with a cane, and his belly always arrived at his destination before he did. A ball cap covered his balding head and a goat-tee failed to cover the pox marks in his cheeks. Rumor had it that he was just out of the hospital for a heart attack or some other life threatening ailment, of which I am not sure. He sat next to me and lit a cigarette. The smoke swirled about his head like a halo. This got me thinking about angels, which got me thinking about God again, which got me wondering what I might do for my part in that relationship.
As Bear and I chit chatted and made small talk, our conversation kept getting interrupted by this phrase in my head, “When you visit them in prison, you have visited me.” I got up from the table and announced that I was going to go visit my step brother, whom I had just found out about. He had been in prison at Oaks Correctional Facility since he was 16. I asked Bear if he knew how to get there. “I used to live in the area”, he said. I’m still not sure if he meant freely or incarcerated. I hesitated to ask him if he wanted to ride along. He was obviously in ill health and frankly I was afraid he might die on the drive up. It was a two hour drive. That’s a long time in a car with an old dying biker. “Trust Me”, kept running through my head, so against my better judgment I asked him if he would like to join me. I’ve never seen a crippled up person hobble so fast.

Once we were on the road, Bear began to talk about nature, and how he spent some time just living off the land wandering around in the wilderness. The more he talked the more I was in awe of what he was saying. It was coming out more like a song than mere words, and I knew I had to right this stuff down right then so I wouldn’t forget it. It just so happened that I had a note book in my car for such occasions, but Bear couldn’t drive, because apparently the guy was legally blind. I asked him to man the steering wheel while I operated the gas pedal and brakes. He talked and steered while I wrote, with my foot on the gas. We rode for the better part of the two hour trip like that. So there we were floating down the highway in my 1992 Caprice Classic, him practically singing to me and me hanging on his every word. Looking back now I would say this was probably my first true experiences at partnership with another human being.

I really didn’t talk much the whole time, so he caught me off guard when he asked if I had ever noticed what the Birch trees do. I had spent way too much of my adult life drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes to know anything about Birch Trees, so I said no. He went on to explain to me that you can always tell when a storm is coming by the Birch leaves. It’s in their nature to turn their leaves over, forming a cup, to catch the rain.

Bear has long since past. I never saw him again after that day. I’ve quit smoking, but I still have too much blood in my caffeine stream. We drove 2 hours that day and I never got to see my step brother. I didn’t know you had to pre-register to visit. Some might think it was a wasted trip, but I learned a valuable lesson. I still think about the simple nature of the Birch Tree, and it causes me to wonder about my own nature in this relationship to God Almighty. I am changing a bit. Now when I see a storm approaching in life, and I cover my head, I am quicker to turn my palms heavenward to catch the life that cascades downward, disguised as rain, in my hands. When I do this, He always gives me something to give back to Him. I am learning that God doesn’t waste a thing, not even a 2 hour trip with dashed expectations. I am learning that the lessons in these very things are priceless. I am learning to trust. I am learning to do as the Birch Trees do.

My leaves are full at present.