The Nuisance That Is My Walnut Tree

Trees are beautiful.
As fall approaches, the trees will be ablaze in color.
The air will get chillier.
The leaves will fall and carpet the ground.

I love trees.
Oh…but my walnut tree.
It is a nuisance.
That sounds harsh, but my feelings towards it are justified.

Our walnut tree has a swing with long ropes that is just begging to be used.
The arc of the swing is amazing when a child is pushed or can swing on their own.
This time of year; however, I almost feel that wearing a hard hat is in order.
Walnuts fall from the tree day and night and litter the lawn and the walkway.

I hear the walnuts falling as I sleep.
I hear the pop of the walnut as my car drives over them.
I see the debris of the discarded soft shell when a squirrel is searching for the nut inside.
I notice all the long sticks that fall from the tree and are scattered everywhere.

If I picked up a walnut, my hands would be stained.
If I step on a walnut, the sole of my shoe would be brown and I would dirty the carpet.
When I walk in the early morning, I can easily roll my foot on an unseen walnut.
I just do not like the walnut tree in our front yard.

I always feel a bit guilty admitting those feelings.
There is just nothing lovely about the walnut tree this time of year.
There is so much debris, that I have a hard time finding any redeeming value.
I frequently use a leaf blower to blow the debris away and clear a path.

Walnut trees produce a compound called joglone, which can be toxic to other plants.
Those sensitive plants must be placed 50-60 feet away from the trunk of the tree.
Only certain plants, which are joglone resistant, can be planted nearby.
They can withstand the toxicity.

However, when I walk into my living room,I can appreciate the beauty of a walnut tree.
There, in the living room, are three walnut tables my husband made for me.
He found a man in our town who had rough lumber from fallen trees in his barn.
He had rough walnut wood, which my husband planed and made into tables.

Something so beautiful came from a walnut tree that I dislike so much.
Something I look at every day is made from the wood of a tree I consider a nuisance.
How can that be?
I like and dislike it at the same time.

When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water. (James 3:1-12)

Our tongue can be a blessing and a curse.
We can praise with our tongues or we can slander and gossip.
We can tell truth with our tongue or we can lie.
We can sing sweetly or we can yell loudly.

My walnut tree has such beautiful wood.
It also produces debris, which covers everything under its branches.
It is not either/or.
It is both/and.

My walnut tree is both beautiful and ugly.
My tongue is both a blessing and a curse.
I am both a saint and a sinner.
I am both beloved and unlovely.

Only a sovereign God can love both/and.
Only a sovereign God can see the either/or of us, and forgive us when we ask.
Only a sovereign God can take our ugly debris and make it beautiful.
Perhaps my walnut tree has important lessons for me to learn.