he knows my name

“I counted just three leaves left on that tree out there,” Rose observed during coffee hour this morning. I looked out into our courtyard and noted she was right. A small, immature maple tree with spindly branches looked completely naked except for three bright and beautiful orange leaves. A pile of orange-turning-brown leaves lay on the ground beneath. I could instantly relate to the scene. I looked at those three lonely leaves and immediately empathized with them. Clinging on for dear life. Literally. Once removed from the tree they will no longer get the nutrients and supplies they need to survive. Yet they must know they’re going to fall. They see their cohorts laying in a dismal pile below. Winter is nearing. Not the physical winter that we feel and see- when the earth is going through its correct, predicted orbit. No, this winter that’s coming is the season of winter that seeps into my heart, my faith, my confidence, my joy. They all seem to somehow cycle in and out of this winter season. It's my winter soul. The difference in these not so different winters is that this winter soul can rarely be prepared for. I, the leaf, just sway in the breeze, absorbing the sun, supporting my fellow leaves until a sudden storm changes my circumstances and I have one frail stem holding on to my lifeline. One sharp, unexpected wind and I’m a goner. At first glance the tree is hideously ugly- all it’s vivid fall color gone, the branches are so thin, they remind me of some of our more weak and underweight patients. The ones that are just biding their time until God takes them

I am genuinely reminded of the lyrics, “He is jealous for me- loves like a hurricane, I am the tree.” This idea of God’s love being equated to a hurricane terrifies me. For obvious reasons. Is that what happened to this poor little tree? Was it loved so hard, so fiercely that it’s very self-defense mechanism was blown away?

But looking at the tree one more time I notice that the tree, even without its leaves is standing tall and almost proud with the fall morning light shining radiantly on it. Only when the leaves are gone can we see THROUGH the tree, see PAST it on to the other side- to the rest of the courtyard behind it, to the future days, to the light of God’s plan. When the leaves are fully in bloom, beautiful though they may be, we are often distracted by their beauty- not able to have a clear view of God’s deeper and wiser plan behind it.

This morning my Favorite Gentleman and I were shaving his face. He always starts off doing the best he can and then when he gets bored of it I step in and suggest that I do “damage control.” As I was cleaning the razor out and leaning over to scrub a recent breakfast spill off his sweater vest, I found myself saying aloud, “Oh Courtney…It’s ok.” My FG responded in turn simply saying, “Courtney!” loud and bold and clear. “Yes!” I smiled at him, “that’s my name!” “I know,” he said. He looked at me with just a slight bit of irritation in his eyes. “I know your name.” I almost cried. Somewhere in the midst of his disease, his confusion, his internal chaos, he picked up on my name.

When I’m seeing clearly- when I give in and let the leaves fall- every LAST leaf including my very self a God who loves me will answer; a God who cherrishes me and knows me by name.