TAX TIME

by Barbara McKinney

And God created the oak tree...

One of the nicest things about an oak tree is that it gives shade. In the shade of the oak tree, the weary may rest, and delicate ferns and flowers and mosses may grow without fear of being scorched by the sun and swept away by driving rain. Some of these delicate ferns and flowers are at various hospitals for the mentally retarded. All of the oaks I know are happy to provide shade for these gentle ones of God. Occasionally, a daffodil will decide that it is tired of standing in the heat or being pelted by the rain; so it uproots itself and moves into the shade of the oaks. Daffodils don't thrive in the shade.

The oak trees cry out together, "Our shade is being abused! How dare that daffodil use our shade!" God provides the acorns from which the oak trees grow. His sun and rain nurture them. It is misplaced pride for an oak tree to think it can give beyond what it has received. Oak trees were created to provide shade in proportion to their size, not according to their discretion. God gives His rain to the good and evil alike. Is the oak tree better than God? Shade is only a by-product of the bounty of God.

Other oak trees reply, "Well, probably we should get out of the sun and rain and let the daffodils shade us!" Get the picture of a full-grown oak uprooting itself and huddling under the petals of a cluster of daffodils. The truth is that oaks love being big and strong. They receive the praise of any casual observer who drives through the hillsides. Even from far off, he will exclaim, "Look at that magnificent oak!" Daffodils have glory only for a season, and the beauty of the delicate ferns and mosses is only seen by a few who take the time to stop and come close to look. And nobody admires a dwarfed, mildewing daffodil when he sees one rotting away in the shade of an oak grove.

I have heard other oaks say, "But if I let the unjust use my shade, I am afraid I will run out." The same God who brought the defenseless sapling to maturity in the tender shelter of mature oaks and provided the rain and sun and soil to make it big and strong enough to have shade to offer today, will provide for its needs tomorrow. An oak is only required to give the amount of shade it has, according to its size. God brought the oak tree this far; why worry that He will withdraw His hand tomorrow.

And other oaks ask the question: "If all the daffodils move into the shade, the delicate ferns and mosses will be uprooted. What then?" Oak trees must pray for the husbandmen of the grove "...who are sent by Him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right (1 Peter 2:14)." In our country, oak trees have the right to vote for ferns and mosses to have access to their shade, and against the use of shade by daffodils. But, there will always be a few daffodils that will uproot themselves and sneak into the shade of the oak trees, pretending to be delicate ferns and mosses. It has always been thus. The price of God giving free will to His creation is that some may choose evil and the others must watch them destroy themselves.

The final chorus heard from the cranky end of the oak grove is, "Well, it's all well and good for God to send His sun and rain on the good and evil alike, He's God. I'm just an oak tree, and it's not fair that my shade should be abused by deadbeat daffodils!" Any creation that does not reflect its creator is as valueless to the Creator as a rebellious daffodil -- and oak trees take up more space. Cranky oak cries, "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE DAFFODIL!" Either it will eventually tire of its sickly situation and return to the fields where it will bloom and give beauty to the world, or it will be plucked up by a reform minded gardener, or it will persevere in its rebellion, rot, and die.

We have all been prodigal daffodils in one way or another. Let us be willing to be abused in the trivial matter of shade. Jesus' own flesh was abused because of our sin.

God loves a cheerful oak tree!