Scar on a Tree. Scar on a Heart. Pt. 2

In August of 1992, as the result of a storm referred to as Hurricane Andrew, half of the Florida Army National Guard and thirty thousand of our active duty compatriots were shipped to South Florida to do duty there. Our convoy had just transcended a momentary line between health and dearth. Strength and weakness. Life and death. Never during the course of my four decades on the earth had I experienced anything like it.

Every tree, every bush, every plant rudely stripped of their leaves. A sight reminiscent of the northern areas of our country; when summer gives way to fall. Not a thousand miles south; where the four seasons are too close to being interchangeable.

The devastation visited us on a grand geographical scale, not unlike the devastation which comes as a finite emotional one; an individual, a few family members and friends, as inestimably devastated as the foliage of that city had been so rudely stripped of its leaves.

As a pastoral counselor I have worked with clients who have experienced trauma, trouble and testing on a personal scale, as inestimably awesome as that memorable storm had visited upon a corporate one. And not unlike trees stripped of their covering, their lives were suddenly deprived of homeostasis, and the wherewithal to continue.

As I stood looking at that ugly, raw scar on that small tree, I was reminded of that day in the last decade of the century just ended, in which the storm had done something very much like it, but on a much grander scale. This time I found myself in the presence of a more singular tragedy, but as personally impactful, and  lasting.

The physical scar on that little tree. So utterly like the emotional ones which have suddenly been etched into the fabric of a few not so well chosen lives. Lives which have figuratively been so rudely stripped of their leaves, and who have begun a journey; which ‘til this very moment in time remained an awful theory.

I could never finish a story such as this one without including the aspect and implication of two words which are among the best of words. Encouragement. And hope. And I think there is no better personal illustration than that which occurred in the aftermath of that great storm to which I have previously alluded.

Since during the 40 days in which I served the people to whom we have been sent, my compatriots and I experienced an event common to another part of our country, but unknown to the region in which I reside.

For you see, every tree, every shrub, every bush began to bud again in unison; as if led by some invisible conductor. And the fresh, light green of a million million leaves caressed those stark, empty branches, and covered up the emptiness which the storm had visited upon them.

God grant those dear family members and friends so horribly impacted by the personal tragedy in this account the emotional healing which comes with time and perspective, and  hold their dear loved one in the hollow of His loving arms.


  By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 43. Copyright pending

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