Not Destroyed

We are experiencing trouble on every side, but are not crushed; we are perplexed, but not driven to despair; we are persecuted, but not abandoned; we are knocked down, but not destroyed, always carrying around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our body.

2 Corinthians 4:7-10

“What can man do to you? Much every way. Like a small thing unsheltered, like a mimosa in a thunderstorm—stems, leaves, flowers, involved in a common distress—that is how you feel till you remember God. And then what happens? …you prove that the spirit of man energized by the Spirit of God can defy the natural, and need not be, as it would naturally be, destroyed when it is cast down.” 

Amy Carmichael, Gold by Moonlight, p.27

There is a spiritual principle that defies nature. When we remember our God from where we are, right in the middle of the storm, bent under the raging wind, drowning in the rising waters, we are not destroyed. #hope Share on X

We prove that when the troubles of life knock us down, we need not be destroyed by them.

When my family and I first moved into our home, we planted two elm trees in the front yard. They stood like awkward adolescents uncomfortable with their leggy height, not yet aware of proper posture. But over the next year, they raised their arms to the sky and reached out for air and sunshine, growing straight and green. 

One night in late spring, a small tornado whipped right up our street and into our yard, breaking its momentum on the hillside where the two trees bravely stood. One tree was bent completely sideways by the whirlwind, its roots rising in surrender to the torrential rain. The other tree snapped at the base, leaving nothing but a sharp stump-dagger stubbornly remaining, daring the wind to upend it.

 A few weeks later, I stood outside with a tree expert assessing the damage. 

“I assume we have to dig this one up and replace it with a new tree,” I said, gesturing to the little dagger.

Squatting down close, he examined the stump. 

“No, ma’am. This little guy is stronger than you think. His roots weren’t moved.”

I chuckled to myself at how we had both personified the mighty wee stump and given him both gender and personality.

The wise expert continued, “It looks like the storm snapped the trunk below the graft, and a new shoot is already working its way out. I’d be willing to bet that this shoot is going to grow stronger than the original sapling. Give it time.”

So we did. And to our amazement, that tiny shoot grew by the end of the season into a thick and strong tree trunk taller than the original sapling. Over the years it continued to grow and spread its branches, creating refreshing shade and prime real estate for bird families and their young. 

Fascinating to us was not only the strength of the once-tender shoot but the fact that the new tree was not an elm. We had planned, purchased, and planted an elm. But the post-storm tree was a different tree, a stronger tree, an extension of the host tree that had long ago granted its strength to the original, grafted elm.

That tree is now the sturdiest, storm-hardiest tree in our garden. 

The other tree originally planted beside it didn’t survive the tornado, so we replaced it. The replacement was taken down by a lesser storm the next season. This past year we finally stopped trying and reseeded the area with grass.

But the one that was snapped at the base, the “little guy” whose roots were not moved, who was cast down but not destroyed (let’s just take it a step further and give him not only personality but spirituality), defied the natural way of struck-down things. He stands tall and beautiful today, strong and secure, a reminder that when we are rooted in our God, when we remember Him in the storm, we will defy the natural, and we may be cast down, but we will not be destroyed.

Are you cast down today? Has an unexpected tornado swept through your life and snapped you like a young elm tree? Take heart, little sapling. The One who granted His strength to you when you were grafted in will hold you strong. And from this storm, you will rise unrecognizable, a new and strong creation whose roots are firmly planted deep below the thrashing wind and rain.

Lord, hold me in the storm and make me proof that though I may be cast down, through You I will not be destroyed. Amen.

@audreycfrank