The Trees Have Stretch Marks

A Story by Shelley

An epiphany by the grace of God.

The trees have stretch marks! Such a silly and somewhat absurd idea and yet this is what comforted me to step into this journey. Of course, I thought I was already running towards recovery. I was motivated by family and friends, surrounded by people lavishing me with encouragements of my bravery and strength. I didn’t believe a word of it. I was pushing through the motions because it’s what people said to do and I, I am a people pleaser.

Now, just because God allowed me to see the epiphany of stretch mark trees doesn’t mean I was cured. God was healing a distortion of my own thoughts though the mimicking’s of nature. I love to lie and marvel at the magnificence in creation, creation I excluded myself from. I could see the masterpieces all around me, the beauty of others, the creativity in differences, the shades and hues as light captivated the colors of His stroke. I was not in these categories.

I saw myself and every scar pierced into my skin. I saw the lingering marks of abuse, failure and disappointment. I saw stretch marks, eliciting the shame consumed by my mind. I did not see myself as God’s work. I excluded myself from the captivating brilliance of my Creator.

The trees have stretch marks.

It was lying in my hammock, admiring the unique textures of the different trees, that I began to think about the growth of such a marvel. Trees grow from the inside out. Each year brings a ring of resilience, strength and resounding confidence in the place where they stand rooted, where they have yet to be shaken from. Each year the security grows more, grows deeper, grows stronger. Trees grow from the inside out. The bark expands and adjusts to the new strength found within. This is natural to accompany growth. Earth shattering for myself.

So simple in the mind’s eye as truly most of us would see just a tree. They’re everywhere. They are ordinary in our perspective of our broken world, unnoticed most days, until we’re there, lying flat on our backs. The world has knocked us down but we’re not out. We just need to breathe, to refocus, to listen for His soft whisper rustling through the leaves. In this moment I saw, the trees have stretch marks. I admire the intricacy of nature woven cohesively together despite the brokenness plaguing our world. In that moment, I admired myself.

I saw myself as a creation of God much like this “ordinary” thing. I saw the affinities I share within nature. I look to the leaves to see the veins and arteries nourishing every bit of me. I look down in shame only to find roots allowed by His majesty, I saw the belonging He has for me. Then as I level my gaze I see the stretch marks laced into the tree; of growth, of courage, of resilience, of inclusivity, of natural existence. I am no different.

God tells me by His creation that I am His. He allows me the realization that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, no different than others by His hands. I am a masterpiece, an adored piece of creation, admired by my own Creator.