More From Robert E. Boertien

I have been blessed by having a number of my meditations published in The Upper Room over the years, and I have been both encouraged and humbled by the gracious response from readers.  I always pray that my writing will be a blessing or inspiration to others, or if that’s not God’s will, perhaps my words could at least be entertaining!

As I write this blog entry, the Chief Joseph Pine in our front yard is adorned with white Christmas lights—and a little snow.  It has turned its winter shade of yellow as it does each year, but I know barring an adverse event of some kind, it will return to a vibrant green in the spring.  I enjoy this transition, and unlike the colorful maples, it drops no leaves to rake.

The Chief Joseph pine is native to the Wallowa Mountains in Oregon and is named after Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce tribe that lived in the region.  However, I live in the Cascades.  Both mountain ranges are beautiful, but the western slope of the Cascades receives four times as much annual precipitation as the Wallowas do.  Again, this is a time-saver for me as I seldom need to water the tree.

This tree is a survivor.  Some wondered if it would grow in an environment so radically different from its home territory.  And 12 years ago, when it turned yellow its first winter in my yard, some undoubtedly thought it had died.  But such was not the case.  Although I care for it by fertilizing, mulching, and carefully pruning, I am reminded of 1 Corinthians 3:7, which reads, “So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow” (NIV).  And grow this tree has—from a spindly seedling to a 14-foot-tall stately beauty. 

The members of the local garden club have been known to drive or walk by to view the tree in its winter glory.  Our closest neighbor admires it and tried to purchase her own Chief Joseph pine, but alas, the nursery sold her a “wannabe” tree that looks the part in the summer but fails to change colors as the weather gets cooler.  Nevertheless, despite its many attributes, the tree has at least one detractor—my wife, Kristine.

Kristine feels the tree looks dead and unattractive in the winter, while I feel that it looks good in yellow and adds color to an otherwise bleak landscape.  This has been the source of a lot of good-natured kidding.  When a second Chief Joseph pine I had planted in the backyard died over the winter, I noted that its demise seemed suspicious.  In reality, it likely sustained damage from wildlife or simply could not endure the long, wet winter.  However, my wife loves all things Christmas, and with the yellow pine in our front yard shining with a thousand points of light, we can both agree that the tree serves a purpose.  Like my writing, if the tree can’t inspire, at least it can entertain.  May each of you be blessed with the changing season.