My Oak My Mama

My Oak My Mama

When I think of an Oak Tree, I think of being little and standing next to the giant oak tree in our yard. It was so big that I could not wrap my arms around it.

I remember looking up at it and seeing it touch the clouds. The giant limbs stand firm in the wind while the little limbs sway back and forth.

I can still see the beautiful leaves that protect me from the sun. I also vividly remember the life living on and around it. The ants and critters crawled up the massive trunk of this tree.

Then, when I look down, I am standing on the roots. These roots are so big that they are bulging out of the ground. I can follow the roots from the tree’s base for as far as they reach.

Many days, I stood in awe of the beauty of this massive living thing that God created.

This mighty tree may bend, but it never breaks.

Our oak tree provides shade in the summer. It loses its leaves in the fall, and the old things pass away. The leaves dying allows the sun to shine through the branches and provide heat on a cold day. In the spring, new life forms, and it begins again.

The circle of life in this tree.

My favorite tree is a tree of strength, honor, and consistency. An oak tree to lean on in hard times. This oak tree brings me joy at the sight or the rustle of the leaves.

I would like to introduce to you my Oak, my Mama.

Thank you, Mama, for loving me without abandon and giving me solid roots.

Thank you for being that big, sturdy branch while I flopped in the wind.

You led me to Christ through your faithfulness in your walk.

Also, for guiding me back to Christ when I wandered off and got lost.

You have always loved my husband and my children.

Thankful that you have never judged but were consistent with your faithfulness.

For showing me love when I was unlovable.

You have taught me values and stood up for me.

Mama, you rescued me, rocked me, and baked with me.

More importantly, mashed potatoes, macaroni & cheese, green beans & potatoes, and lima beans for your fried chicken.

You, my Marth, have been a living, breathing example of a Proverbs 31 woman.

You, my sweet Martha, are Oak Tree.