Pine Trees

The four tall pine trees had been looming over our house for years. Given they sat at the top of the steep hill behind our house, their presence was imposing. Every storm reminded me that we needed to remove them before they fell, but then the storms passed, and I put the work off. Recently, we hired someone to remove them, and, today as I sit looking out the window at the trees swaying in the outer bands of hurricane Helene, I’m so glad we did the work.

I can’t help but think of the important life lesson this has given me. It makes me think about a speech a friend of mine once gave about the pain of discipline. He pointed out that making the decision to do something, while painful or inconvenient, is often far less that what awaits you if you don’t.

I felt convicted as I listened to him. I could name many instances when I knew what I needed to do (or stop doing) but chose not to. The pine trees behind our house could well have been on that list this morning, but they’re not. It makes me not only grateful to have done the work before this storm, but also makes me wonder what other “pines” are out there that I need to address.

In twelve step recovery circles, they speak of “doing the next right thing.” It comes from people who have rarely, or never, done the right thing and now find themselves in deep holes of their own making. Doing the next right thing is their way of climbing out of the holes, one step at a time. It’s not pleasant work and always takes longer than anyone wants, but it’s the best way to new life.

Whether it’s a hole, a tree looming, or an ignored situation or relationship, doing the work when we’d rather not often leads to less work and pain if we don’t. “A stitch in time saves nine,” I’ve heard. Now I’m trying to listen.