Newsletter – Whose Leaf Does Not Wither
The book of Psalms in the Bible is a rich collection of Hebrew poems and prayers, beautiful in imagery and timeless in wisdom. Psalm 1 gives us an encouraging picture. It begins by describing the person of integrity, one who does not walk in step with the wicked or sit in the company of cynics. This person meditates on God’s word (which need not be exclusively the Bible, I might suggest).
The psalm says of such a person:
“They are like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.”
This striking image of stability and quiet strength is especially poignant in times like these. The world today feels disoriented; the compass spins without direction, and the landmarks we once relied on seem to vanish. In a landscape that feels more like a wilderness, isn’t it deeply appealing to be like that tree: rooted, nourished and fruitful, despite the chaos around it?
The 19th-century preacher J.H. Jowett, from Halifax, reflected on this psalm with piercing insight. He wrote, “In what multitude of lives, the leaves have withered away! How is it? This psalm affirms that it is all a matter of rootage.”
What a powerful word – rootage. If our inner leaves are curling, drying, falling – perhaps it is not just the weather of our circumstances but the health of our roots that needs attention. What are we grounded in? What sources feed our inner life?
Psalm 1 invites us to reflect on the paths we walk, the voices we listen to and the rhythms of our inner life. In a culture of noise, distraction and cynicism, what are we allowing to shape our hearts and minds?
As spring unfolds, let us be mindful of our sources of strength. Seek streams of wisdom, compassion and presence that nourish us. By tending to our roots, we can bear the fruits of peace, hope, joy and love – even in dry seasons of the soul.
Andrew Gadd
