Reflections Under the Old Douglas Fir

In Montana, there’s a remarkable stand of Douglas fir trees. Foresters estimate that one of them, the largest, boasts over 600 years of growth.

This tree, situated along the banks of a stream, benefits from protection against fierce winds thanks to the surrounding hills. The river flows gently, tracing a path back to the forest, while the mountainside on the opposite bank rises dramatically.

It’s a spot where one could easily linger for hours.

Long before my father-in-law acquired the land, others had discovered its significance. Arrowheads and ancient tools have been unearthed in the area. It’s an ideal place for camping, with fresh water, natural windbreaks, and a beautiful view of the valley.

Sometimes, I catch myself pondering who might have rested under its branches centuries ago.

When friends and family come to visit, I often take them to see the tree. Some look at me in a bewildered manner; others just shrug their shoulders.

My father-in-law, however, never shared that indifference. His fascination with this ancient fir led him to craft a simple sign, naming it the “Legacy Tree.” The name became iconic.

As I stand in its shade, I can’t help but touch its weathered trunk. Sometimes, connecting with living beings can provide a sense of comfort.

Reflecting on the 6th century puts so much into perspective.

While this tree was young, Christopher Columbus was still imploring Queen Isabella for funding on his uncertain quest across the ocean. Meanwhile, Martin Luther was challenging the church, while this tree silently continued to grow its rings beneath the bark.

It witnessed the birth of America, standing strong as the founders pledged their lives and fortunes. It existed long before anyone referred to this land as Montana.

Underneath its expansive branches, generations have passed. Empires have risen and crumbled. Under the same vast sky that has watched over this tree for centuries, humans have even walked on the moon.

As history marched on, the tree thrived.

It has faced fire, lightning strikes, droughts, insects, severe winters, heavy snow, and the relentless winds that Montana can muster.

There are fallen trees scattered around; some have given way to age, others struck down by lightning or swept away by winds and snow.

Why this Douglas fir remains a mystery, known only to its creator.

Eventually, it too will fall.

But for now, it stands firm, sustained by divine grace.

Jesus encouraged us to consider the lilies in the fields and the birds in the air. He pointed out simple, everyday experiences to share profound truths about divine care.

As I linger beneath this ancient fir, I start to wonder if that invitation extends beyond just flowers and birds. What if our heavenly Father adorns a lily that blooms only for a day? Or watches over unnoticed birds?

If He can sustain this tree through six centuries of winter, lightning, and fire in Montana, how much more will He support our children?

This question feels different now than it did a few years ago.

We seem to live in a time of constant worry. Headlines scream of impending doom, and every political battle feels like a final stand for civilization. Social media thrives on outrage.

Fear has become a currency.

Conflicts abroad grow fiercer. Political rifts seem to widen daily. It often feels like another crisis lurks just around the corner.

The Bible repeatedly reminds us to remain unafraid.

There’s no profit in feeding our fears; scripture continually reaffirms who holds ultimate authority.

Indeed, God never promised His followers a life free from storms. What He did promise was His presence through them.

Yet, we often fall into the trap of believing that chaos reigns unchecked.

We all experience our personal Montana winters and stormy summer days: illnesses, loss, financial struggles, broken relationships, and an uncertain future, all while the winds of life blow hard and hope feels distant.

Standing under this venerable fir, I hear the words of Christ anew.

Think of the lilies. Reflect on the birds. And if I might add, let’s consider an old Douglas fir.

Touching something living can truly offer solace.

When I step away from this silent shelter, I’m reminded that the same God who has supported me throughout the life of this tree has been my steadfast companion throughout my own journey.

Even as the headlines continue to shout, I find reassurance in God’s unwavering faithfulness.