Growing up, we had several acres of forest on our property. I used to love playing back there. I would pretend I was on an alien planet, or back in medieval times. I especially liked to go back there in the summer when it was hot, like now. The old trees where hundreds of feet tall and blocked out the sun most of the day, so it was the coolest place to explore or build forts (in more ways than one).

A few years ago, I went for a walk back in those trees again. As I was lost in nostalgia, I came across a particularly ugly root. It had a ridiculous bend in it and was coved in some seriously tough bark. After the initial shock of seeing this abnormal root, I began to think about what caused it to look this way.

The gnarled bark was easy: roots are meant to be underground, and when they touch air, they grow bark to protect themselves. If they didn't, the soft, spongy roots would be trampled and lose all their precious water. The tree would die. The tough exterior is a defense against past trauma. It was an extreme response to a threat. The crazy bend in the root puzzled me a bit more, though.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Although I couldn't see it anymore, that root must have encountered something in its past (probably a big rock) that it couldn't just push through. It was forced to bend and go around. The obstacle was no longer there, but its effect remained. What I was looking at was a scar of sorts, brought on by some event in the past. I thought that was neat: it was like a little peek into a long gone past. I started to wonder how many of the other tree roots I saw had a similar story of struggles or hard seasons that are seen only in the shape they now hold. Then I was struck by another thought: people are exactly the same.

I have met some ugly people. I'm not talking about physical appearance. I mean, I have met some people that are hard, twisted and bent. It is easy to be offended or judgmental, like I was with the root, until I realize, those bends and twists are scars left from old wounds. Something must have happened in the past to cause those people to be shaped different. They grew gnarly bark to protect their soft, inner core. They don't need my judgment. They need good healthy soil and understanding of how they came to be.

All trees (and people) must be trained to grow as they do. I cannot change a tree by working on the tree directly. I do so by effecting its environment, as it continues to grow. You can't change a person, but if you change the environment they live in, they will change as they grow. How can we create a good environment for wounded people to grow healthy in?

Pastor Evan Elwell

Pomeroy Church of the Nazarene

Pomeroy, Wash.