Broken

    There is an epic story that floats around my extended family which involves me, my mother and my teenage stupidity.  My mother had a miniature, antique rocking chair and if memory serves me correctly was a gift from an elder family member.  This was a cherished item to my mom, beautifully carved and stained, made from the finest hardwoods.  So I decided to sit in it.  Crack!  The main support for the back of the little chair snapped and everyone grew quite.  Within minutes mom was in the living room surveying the damage.  My life flashed before my eyes.  My stupidity only grew when I promised, “I can fix it!”  Using screws, glue and other ways I repaired it only for it to break again and again.  This antique, beautiful, miniature rocking chair would never be the same.

    This story flooded my mind when I was hiking with my son in Devil’s Den the other day.  Noticing trees young and old around me, the word “broken” kept coming to my mind.  Whether a rocking chair, glass, clay pot or car, many things broken are never the same.  A car can be wrecked, completely repaired and look brand new, but once the repair is mentioned to perspective buyers, doubt begins to form and a sell is difficult.  The rocking chair never was the same and most things that break are never fully fixed.  In fact, one could say that which is made of dead things once broken are never the same again. 

    Living things are different.  Noticing trees in the forest while hiking, a tree limb can break, but the tree will continue growing.  The apex or terminal buds closest to the break will start a new shoot like nothing ever happened.  As you man know, regeneration of trees actually occurs at the base of the tree.  A broken limb is still connected to the trunk which is connected to the shoot apical meristem, which is connected to the roots.  A broken tree limb will fix itself because it is connected to that which gives life.

    Once the limb breaks and dries outs, or is intentionally cut to form into wood selected for furniture, it loses its regeneration power.  The longer it is dried out, the harder it becomes increasing in strength and its chance to break.  Dried out wood used for construction is impossible to completely fix once broken and one must scrap the piece and start over.

    I share this as I think about two trees.  The first is a tree once living in a garden gave everlasting life (Gen. 2.9) and the second tree gave the knowledge of good and evil.  Then the choice was presented.  Eat the former tree and regeneration will continue: eat the later and one will be removed from regeneration—one will become breakable.  As the story goes, the second tree was chosen and man has been breakable ever since. 

    But a third tree was formed.  This was grown and chopped down, dried out and used for construction.  When the order came, it was sawn into pieces, fixed together and made into a cross.  Jesus came to fix mankind, was nailed to this breakable creation and left to die.  This Man that came to give life was placed on the very thing that illustrates brokenness.  Everything about His death communicated brokenness in order for mankind to be grafted into life again.  And grafting cannot take place unless the limb is severed off and the source of life is cut open to accept the new limb.  Grafting is very violent, but life is restored to the new limb.  This new life, this rebirth (John 3:5) has cost everything for us to become whole, but if we choose to be grafted—if we choose to abide in Him—He will abide in us.