I’ve got a beef with a beaver. He likes the same things that I do. Like the apple tree standing next to the river. I loved that tree! He did, too. At least I assume that he did, from the way he chewed his way through it before leaving it to die. I would have felt better if he had taken the tree with him, using it to build a damor a hideout. But he didn’t need it. All this young beaver did, was to sharpen his teeth before moving on, looking for prey to devour.
Beaver beef in the making
I think he was watching us as we planted another apple tree. It certainly didn’t take him long to chop it into tiny pieces, leaving the leftovers behind for us to whine over. A few days later, he worked his way through a thuja. Bad beaver! Nothing is sacred to him.
We just opened our summer house for the spring. As we stood on the deck, studying the beaver’s latest crime – a half-eaten cypress – he passed us while floating lazily down the river. I don’t think he saw us; he’s usually very private and rarely lets anyone see him. Hidden behind what was left of the cypress I watched this young, careless animal as he swam by our deck in search for new adventures. He was only acting according to his instincts. My instinct was to grab him by the neck and force-feed him those leftover wood chops, but the thought of those big front teeth and the damage they might do to my leg, made me reconsider.
Some things are simply beyond my control. There are circumstances that I can’t change, no matter how much I fret over them. So, I try not to, although failing miserably most of the time. But I was certainly not about to lose any sleep over some vegetal destruction. After all, the view from the deck got even better.
Transition and upgrade
Life happens and there’s not much you can do about it. Family happens. Work happens. Good things. Difficult ones. Grocery shopping. Bills. Unexpected phone calls. Rain happens. Jetlag and insomnia. Carpool. Allergies. Rush traffic. Small and insignificant details that make up most of our daily lives. You know it’s coming but you’re still caught by surprise. If you’re anything like me, Mondays hit you like a ton of bricks on a weekly basis.
The question is: What will you do with the chopped-down apple trees of your garden? The ones that you had hopes and expectations for, that failed to thrive? How do you deal with the loss of anticipated fruit, the missing results of your labor? Do you worry or even grieve? Or will you allow yourself to catch a glimpse of the culprit floating by in all his amazingness?
Things will change. Your circumstances will shift. Maybe for worse first, before it gets better. Because it will get better. You may have to hang in there for a while, trusting the One who holds your past, your present and your future in the palm of his hand. After all, which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
Sometimes something’s got to give to make room for something new. Promotions are messy. Making room for an upgrade may be painful, but it’s still worth it. The Creator of the universe is still the author of your story, the designer of your destiny, and the very heart of your hope. The ‘I am’ will sustain you through shifting circumstances and see you all the way home.
Rest. Be renewed. Embrace change.
After all, the view from the deck gets better.
