The oaks we have desired
One of the biggest dangers I face is that I’m a fairly capable person. I can accomplish a lot, and I know it.
I’ve spent most of my life working, building, and creating. Brick after brick, I’ve constructed a tower to display my strength and ability. I’ve comforted myself with the fact that I like God and want Him around, but the truth is that I don’t want to need God.
In recent years, I’ve been feeling a bit disillusioned and disappointed. I’ve accomplished some things that I’m proud of, but on the whole, it feels like my efforts are being thwarted. It’s only recently that I’ve started to wonder if, like the tower of Babel, God is hindering my progress. And it’s only recently that I’ve also wondered if this might be an act of mercy.
The oaks that I’ve desired
“For they shall be ashamed of the oaks that you desired; and you shall blush for the gardens that you have chosen.”
I want to thank Ray Ortlund for pointing out to me (in his commentary) that the “oaks” and “gardens” in this verse are metaphors for human strength and potential.
I’ve been asking myself, “What are the oaks that you desire?”
What human strength do you wish you had? What human glory makes your heart burn with longing?
What garden are you desperately trying to cultivate for yourself? What does a resting and prosperous place of peace, joy, security, and satisfaction look like in your imagination?
Resources and a home
“For you shall be like an oak whose leaf withers, and like a garden without water.”
The oak tree of human achievement seems mighty for a moment, but it’s withering. It’s dying. It only has the appearance of life. Underneath, there is no true and lasting pulse.
This withering oak stands in contrast to the planted tree in Psalm 1, whose leaf does not wither, bears fruit in season, and prospers in all that he does. And “planted” implies this tree was intentionally placed by an outside party. In this planted spot, the Psalm 1 tree doesn’t live on its own resources but thrives by pulling from the resources of the stream.
The waterless garden stands in contrast to the flourishing garden of Eden. God has made it clear that every human attempt to establish a home apart from Him will leave us parched.
“My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.”
But it’s not like God is holding back on us. Jesus invites us to come and drink. The life-giving water He offers can saturate us to the point of overflowing. Not only are we satisfied, but rivers start to flow from within, watering those around us.
The danger
It’s foolish and stubborn to resist my need for God. But it’s also dangerous because a life of self-reliance is a life on the edge of catching fire.
“And the strong shall become tinder and his work a spark, and both of them shall burn together with none to quench them.”
Isn’t this a tale we’ve all witnessed over and over again? We find this truth in our phrase, “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
I suspect the Bible would say, “The mightier you are, the stronger you are, the more independently successful you are apart from God, the faster and hotter the burn as the wreckage of your life goes up in flames.”
When (not if) the oaks we’ve desired dry up, there’s nothing left for it but to burn. What’s worse is that our own work is what tends to strike the match. No man or woman is too great for the destructive nature of pomp and pride.
Praise God
God doesn’t want my life to go up in flames. He wants me to thrive, flourish, and prosper in all the ways that are truly significant.
I praise God for the ways He thwarts my self-reliant plans. For the ways He is leading me through the valleys of disillusionment and disappointment in what I can accomplish on own. For how He is replacing my small, self-capable vision of my life with a grander vision of what He wants to do in and through me. (Thank you, Jackie Hill Perry, for this insight)
I praise God for how He is weakening my desire for the withering oak of self-reliance and replacing it with the desire to be a thriving, planted tree of dependence on all the resources He is happy to supply.
