Is Anything Too Hard For the Lord?

Asterisks indicate italics.



Is Anything Too Hard For the Lord?

By

Mike Ackerman





Part I

I am the dogwood tree who died for Jesus. The very tree who was cut down and fashioned into His cross.

I saw Jesus’ excruciating death when He hung from me. While in God’s heavenly abode, I also came to know of His burial. But the most important act of Jesus’ ministry was His glorious resurrection, which I also witnessed from above.

My name is Willow. And this is my story.

***

Time: Four months after Jesus’ birth.

The large, towering trees around us, otherwise known as Wise Ones, swayed gently in the breeze. Here and there, birds dotted the landscape or perched on a Wise One’s limbs. The din and clatter of the marketplace nearby was filled with the shouts of merchants and buyers who dickered over the prices of anything you could imagine, whether it be a pair of turtledoves or a string of pearls. The early morning Sun shone blood red in the sky and broiled the gritty soil of our little grove as Resin and Johnny conversed.

“Care to make a wager?” Resin asked. She spoke in the way of the mother tree’s flowers, through the inner workings of our minds. I perked my ears at the sound of her inner monologue.

Resin was perhaps the most beautiful flower on all the branches of our mother, a fine work of Mother’s labors with a silken voice and delicately colored petals, whereas I was the runt of Mother. Resin and Johnny never let me forget it, either.

“A wager?” Johnny said. “A wager on what?” Johnny waved his petals in a cocksure way. I could tell that it wasn’t just the breeze, too. Johnny had always been one of the more confident flowers.

Resin giggled. “I’ll bet that Willow doesn’t make it outside of this week.”

This statement deeply hurt me, not only because of its implications, but also because Resin and Johnny spoke of me as if I wasn’t even there.

“I give him three days, and he’ll surely wilt away,” Johnny said.

In my boldest voice, (which didn’t sound very bold at all) I said: “I’m going to make it. You just wait and see. I’m going to work really hard at soaking in the nutrients I need. I’ll—“

“Shut up,” Johnny said bluntly.

Sherry, my mother, rustled her branches as she came to at the sound of our argument. Within the confines of my mind, I heard her yawn inwardly. She gazed upon us and sighed.

My mother wasn’t perfect, for we all fall short of God’s glory, but she almost never had an unkind word to say. Even when she did discipline us, it was out of love, never out of spite. She had a certain innate ability to nurture all of us to our full potential.

“Johnny, you mustn’t speak to Willow that way. He will do well for himself. It will just take a little more time for him. You should speak words of encouragement to help him grow,” Mother said.

Johnny fluffed himself up, rebellious flower that he was. “This is a competitive world we live in, and I refuse to risk the possibility of being choked off the branch by some flower who will never make it back to the topsoil once he is buried in the ground.”

“Johnny, that’s enough! Now, you can just furl yourself up and forget about soaking up anymore Sun for today! And if I hear one more negative word aimed at Willow from you, I will see to it that you are cut off from your liquids for three whole days!”

Resin snickered. Mother got on her case in a similar manner.

My mother had to lay dormant for long periods of time in the spring to enable her budding flowers to grow. When she was awake, she was typically so groggy that she had little energy to discipline us. She left much of the supervision to a youngling tree who had not yet borne flowers. Her name was Sarah.

Mother once told me that Sarah had been a God fearing youngling who deeply loved the Lord, but that she had grown bitter toward Him one day. Even so, if God were real, I thought, He had truly laid a special blessing upon Sarah. Her slender figure, tender leaves, and thinly layered trunk made Sarah beautiful to look upon.

Resin and Johnny tried to unfurl as soon as Mother went to sleep again, but Sarah chastised them. They quickly furled back up and I was able to catch a few more rays of Sun without having to listen to their crude remarks.

Inspired by Sarah, for I thought of her as my only true friend, I spoke to her with a fond eagerness. “You know, something puzzles me. Mother told me that you were always one of the ‘slow ones’ in your early stages as a youngling. Mother said she even heard of many Wise Ones who believed you would always be that way. So how is it that you have such profound wisdom now?”

“Is anything too hard for the Lord?” Sarah said. Then she gave me a sad, sappy smile.

Sarah used this bit of scripture often, but she would never say anything else about God.

“C’mon, Sarah, give it to me straight. How’d you get so smart? I’m a bit curious, you know.”

“OK. I’ve learned many things from other trees all throughout the land. When you’re a youngling tree, you’ll be able to communicate across long distances too. That’s why the Wise Ones are so intelligent—they have gleaned much information over the course of their lives. I really don’t know why I was initially so slow, though. It’s just something I grew out of, I guess.”

Mother butted into our conversation, her voice full of optimism. “Sarah, I have been praying for you and everyone in the grove to come to the saving knowledge of Jesus. According to what I’ve heard, He is the Son of God. He was just recently born of a virgin in Bethlehem, and He is the Christ prophesied to save the world!”

But I was filled with doubt about Mother’s wondrous little bit of insight. Even if God was real, I reasoned, it made no sense for Him to come in the form of a frail baby. Wouldn’t He come instead as a great warrior who would conquer Satan? This belief that the baby Jesus was God in the flesh defied logic, and I just couldn’t accept it.

Still, I kept the thought of Jesus in mind. I figured He might be able to help me one day if He really was the Son of God.

***

Several days later, in the midst of my thirst laden thoughts, Sarah called to me in her golden voice. “Hey, Willow, are Resin and Johnny still asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know—they really have it out for you. Resin and Johnny want the nourishment that Mother is giving you on the branch because they think you’ll just become fertilizer for them when they become younglings!”

My voice strained, I said, “There is no teaching that says I should just give up.”

Sarah bowed her branches to indicate she agreed. But Oliver was quick to refute us.

“Would you care to argue that point?” Oliver said.

“What do you mean by that?” I said, my voice wracked with grief. If a Wise One like Oliver sided with the seedlings who wished me dead, what chance did I have? For a brief moment, I thought to release all the water from my petals and fall away from the embrace of Mother. Sarah’s concern for me is all that held me back.

Oliver prattled on in his deep, foreboding voice. “An angel with great wisdom came to me last night. He told me of two belief systems which humanity will develop in the distant future. He used a couple words that you won’t be familiar with, but I will explain them to you, foolish flower. The words are evolution and entropy.”

I thought to interrupt Oliver, especially when he called me a “foolish flower,” but I had been taught to give respect to the Wise Ones, so I just listened.

Oliver continued on. “Evolution is the belief that a species mutates into a higher state of order so it is better able to survive in the harsh elements of this planet. Through natural selection, the weaker of the species is eliminated, and you, Willow, are far too frail. You deserve to be cut off.”

Oh, how I burned with anger at Oliver for shunning me like my siblings had!

“But *entropy,*” and at the mention of this word, Oliver puckered his face, “is essentially the opposite belief. It states that all things change from a state of order to disorder. For instance, if you were to believe that the book of Genesis wasn’t just a hodge-podge of fairytales, you might say that trees are experiencing ‘entropy.’ I say this because, in theory, we trees once held the power to give eternal life to man. We have apparently moved from a state of higher order to a state of lower order since we are no longer able to do this. Only a miraculous act of God could negate entropy by restoring our former ability. But none of this matters anyway; the Bible is a bunch of washed up fables, so this isn’t applicable to—“

My mother had risen from her slumber at the sound of Oliver’s long winded rant, and in a great huff, she plunged into the conversation. “Oliver, your itching ears hear only what you want, and you are greatly deceived! Your high minded intellectualism will get you nowhere.”

Oliver scowled at Mother, but she didn’t relent.

“Simply put, to doubt in God’s existence is a sin. Believe in the Lord and the values which follow will restore you to sanity. I would also ask that you please not spread your poisonous beliefs to my seedlings.”

Though Sarah became moody whenever the topic of God was brought up, my curiosity had been piqued by Mother’s talk of God’s Son several days prior. I also wanted to include Sarah in the conversation, so I asked for her thoughts.

“Sarah, while we are on this topic, I would like to know what it is about God that angers you so? Is it that you no longer believe? I have my doubts as well, just to let you know. There may even be something to evolution, however much I would hate to admit it.”

Oliver smirked, but Mother’s face fell when I mentioned this.

“It isn’t that I don’t believe, dear. It isn’t that,” Sarah said. She began to whimper after she spoke, and a faint trickle of water began to dribble from Sarah’s leaves.

Oliver, Mother, and all the others eagerly waited for Sarah to explain her pained feelings toward God. But she gave no reason. Gently, I prodded Sarah again.

“Sarah, please don’t cry. Tell me, what is it that troubles your heart?”

Sarah spoke in between her sobs. “God wronged me. He wronged me.” After her tear stricken words, Sarah rocked to and fro in such a belligerent manner that I feared she might uproot herself.

Mother spoke out in a bold tone. “I want to pray with you, Sarah. But before I can do that, you must tell me why you believe God wronged you.”

Sarah shook her branches in a fit of agony and softly murmured that she could not do this.

“Sarah,” I began, “you mean so much to me. I trust in you because I know you are compassionate and true to your word. You believe in me even though my siblings hold me in contempt. Please, if for no other reason than the fact that you are my dearest friend, tell me what troubles you.”

Sarah gathered herself together and quit swaying. Her voice still broken, Sarah said, “I am grateful to have a friend such as you, Willow. Because of you alone, I will explain why I feel this way.

“As a flower, I was carried here by a great gale of wind from some distance, so many of you don’t know my father. His name was Matthew, and I loved him very much.” A glazed look came over Sarah as she paused.

“Anyhow, they say lightening never strikes two times in the same place. Well, it did. The first stroke which hit Matthew wouldn’t have been enough. But the second one split him wide open. I will never forget Matthew’s pained cries. It makes me bleed inside just to think of it. I have heard that he has since been taken by the humans for scrap wood, but I miss him even to this day.”

I wished that I knew how to console Sarah, but I did not. I felt powerless. If only I were a Wise One with more knowledge, I thought, I would know the right thing to say.

“Sarah,” Mother began. “Jesus will comfort you if you ask Him. He knows of your pain, and He cares deeply about the hurt you feel inside.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Mother quickly took up the charge once again, and said, “Let’s pray together.”

After the prayer, Sarah was quick to express her gratitude toward Mother and me for helping to restore her faith.

“I want to thank you, Sherry, for your heartfelt prayer. I am also grateful for you, Willow. Because of your coaxing, I am no longer bitter toward the Almighty. You will surely grow to be the greatest Wise One in the forest.”

***

I wallowed in Sarah’s words until they became a mantra to me. Soon, I was puffed up with such pride that I felt invincible. Not even Resin or Johnny could make me feel otherwise. Day by day, I nursed my carnal nature and kept my will in perfect alignment with the devil’s.

Tired of being the runt of all my mother’s flowers, I put myself through a rigorous exercise routine which consisted of flexing my petals in a wide array of poses every day. The hard work made me strong in a very short while. After a time, I became even more robust than Resin. I concluded that it wasn’t necessary to believe on the Lord Jesus.

The devil knew he owned me then.

***

Fall came with a chilly vengeance. Fully ripened, I fell to the ground. The gritty topsoil was sparse with moisture, however, so I soon began to grow weak. By that evening, I was sick with thirst and near to the point of death.

As I lay dying, a young brown-skinned boy in bare feet stepped upon me and ground me into the dirt. I choked on the coarse soil and a horrible bout of claustrophobia came over me. In those trying moments, I hated my very existence and longed for death.

*Come to me, my child…* I heard a dark voice say. *Come to me…*

As I began to rot away, my breaths became shallower and further apart.

After several more excruciating hours, I died.

***

I came before the throne of Satan.

In the form of a large green viper with glistening black spots, Satan flit his forked tongue and stared me down with his sleek eyes. Flames surrounded the plush red and gold throne upon which he was coiled, and men and women of all colors and religions wailed in the molten pits of lava surrounding us. I was still in a daze when the devil hissed his first words.

“Worship me, and I will resurrect you. You will be supernaturally grown into the greatest Wise One ever. The other trees of the forest will stand in awe of your might, and you will live a long, fruitful life.”

“Never!” I said.

Satan bared his fangs at me. They gleamed in the light of the flames. “Would you rather face the fiery inferno of the pits in which these spirits suffer?”

I gazed upon all the madness, the demons which haunted the place, the endless corridors that led to different levels of hell, the crescendo of flames in the deep rocky pits.

Faint and weary at the thought of being trapped there, I groveled at the foot of Satan’s throne. I just wanted to get back home to my mother and Sarah. It was inconceivable that I be eternally separated from those I held so dear.

Finally, I said, “I exalt you to the most high, my lord.”

The devil smirked.

***

I came to in the soil and cried out for Mother and Sarah, but they couldn’t hear me from underneath the earth. Yet parched with a deathly thirst, I trembled with joy when I felt the pitter-patter of rain drops begin to pelt the soil above me. Ever so slowly, the water dribbled down through the dirt. I drank, and within moments, life anew stirred within.

Roots burst out of me, delicate tendrils which sought a firm hold below. Soon, a tender green shoot emerged from the soil. A pair of leaves began to protrude from my fresh stem, and I laughed maniacally in the downpour of rain.

Unstoppable. Irrevocable. Insatiable. I was to be the greatest of them all. What was meekness, temperance, or longsuffering to a youngling tree who would grow into a Wise One like me? The tips of my limbs would reach even higher than my imagination, up and up toward the stars, and I would be as a mighty tower set upon the Earth with much fruit to bear.

Part II

Time: Approximately thirty-two years later.

Our grove had prospered much, and I took this as evidence of good favor from the Prince of Darkness. As Satan had promised, I was the mightiest of all the Wise Ones. They knew me by name, and I was given a place of great honor amongst them.

It was yet early in the morning, and I was busy nursing my flowers when Sarah arose.

Sarah had often approached me with the gospel, but so far, she had failed to convince me that Jesus was God. I believed that Jesus, while a man with good intentions, was completely mad.

Sarah never gave up on me, though.

“Willow,” she began, “I spoke to God this morning and He revealed a great many truths to me. I—“

“What are you getting at?” I snapped.

My feelings for Sarah were still there, but she had to understand that my commitment was to a different master.

“Well, I know you have a sincere heart and care deeply for Sherry and I, but you must understand: Jesus is the only way to the Father. I want to see you in heaven. When we get there, we can grow together in God’s glory and reign with Jesus.”

I replied in a steely tone. “Satan has given me great might. Have I not surpassed you, Johnny, and even Resin in stature? If this isn’t proof that Satan will achieve the final victory, then what is?” I asked.

“Willow, I know I’m coming across strong, but we don’t have much time. Jesus has prophesied His death on many occasions, and His Earthly life will soon draw to a close. God has revealed to me that this grove will suffer persecution along with Jesus. Our lives are in danger, and what Satan has given you will be destroyed because it is corrupt. Don’t take the fall with him, Willow. Please don’t.” Sarah paused, trembling with indignation. “Are you listening to me, Willow?”

“Yes,” I fumed.

“Well good. You cannot lean on your own understanding in this, Willow, for God’s thoughts are eternally higher than yours or mine. I’m not exactly sure how Jesus will emerge victorious if He is slain, but I’m operating on faith. God’s promises are irrevocable, and His Word says that Jesus will crush Satan’s head.”

I felt myself beginning to yield, and yet, there was still a deep, underlying resistance. I snarled at Sarah, and in a spiteful tone, I said, “But in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus sweated blood. He fears pain and death as any mortal. He knows He will lose, otherwise, why would He be afraid?”

Just then, Johnny cackled. In a boisterous tone, he said, “Willow is right. The victory of the devil is even revealed in scripture. Was Satan not once a student of God’s, and is it not a biblical truth that a student is to achieve greatness beyond that of his master?”

“A fool despises his father’s instruction, but he that regards reproof is prudent,” Sarah said in a confident tone.

Sarah had much wisdom, but it had been blocked from me by Satan because I wouldn’t ask the Lord’s forgiveness or submit to His precious Son.

***

The next day, a score of Roman soldiers came into our little grove. The sight of the axes and saws they carried frightened us into silence. All of my might and worldly wisdom meant nothing in the face of this. Everyone knew the agony of being chopped down. There wasn’t a more terrible way to die.

The captain of the soldiers, a large man with a ruddy beard who wore a set of gleaming armor, pointed at my trunk.

“This tree is of the highest quality. We shall take it for the one who calls Himself the Christ,” the captain said.

Mother screamed.

*You are mine now… you are mine,* Satan purred.

I knew then that the devil was a liar. He had promised me a long life, but my time on Earth was to be very brief.

The captain waved his index finger at Johnny. “This one is also good.”

By that time, the whole grove was in an uproar.

Something inside of me lurched when I saw him studying Sarah. If God was stronger than Satan, why would he allow Sarah to suffer the same as me? Surely, the captain would overlook her.

“And this one,” the captain said, his filthy finger pointed at my very best friend.

“Sarah… no…” I whimpered.

The soldiers drew up to us, their axes at the ready. My body shook as they swung their blades into my trunk. The pain I experienced went on for an indescribable length of time. Mother prayed for us in between her sobs of grief.

Sarah’s body made a tremendous thud on the ground when she was felled. Once Sarah was still, the soldiers began to butcher her with their saws. Most of the men broke into song in the midst of the slaughter. The smell of sawdust and sweat was ripe in the air.

Sarah was still alive, of course. It took a Wise One some time to die if she was cut down. Given time, though, the roots would wither away.

Johnny was felled shortly after. He cursed as the soldiers mauled him on the forest floor.

The soldiers finally managed to cut me down too. After I fell still, several of the men began to cart pieces of Sarah off in wheelbarrows and litters.

“Sarah,” I cried. “My Sarah…”

***

Time: One week prior to Jesus’ crucifixion.

The laborers in the wood shop started with Sarah. What little bark she had left was peeled away. After Sarah had been stripped, the carpenter began to rub her down with coarse sandpaper. The sound of her cries made me sick with grief.

“Sarah?” I said.

The carpenter grunted as he continued to whittle Sarah down in a relentless fashion.

“What is it, Willow?”

“Does it hurt?” My voice was shaky.

“Yes.”

Johnny sobbed like a little budding flower in the back of the room. The carpenter had yet to get to him or me.

My emotions boiled over when Sarah pleaded for God to take her life. I wanted to tell Sarah how much I loved her, but I was too choked up to speak.

***

Sarah, Johnny, and I had been fully fashioned into crosses by the time Pontius Pilot convicted Jesus. A man named Simon was carrying me behind Jesus up Calvary Hill. Sarah and Johnny had already been erected at the top of it. Two thieves were crucified upon them.

“Keep moving, ‘Son of God!’ If you’re so high and mighty, why can’t you make it up the hill!” one of the soldiers alongside Jesus screamed.

Jesus had been beaten so badly that He could barely even crawl, but one of the soldiers laid into His back again. The barbed cords of his whip tore Jesus’ skin open and flecked blood onto a nearby woman. She spat upon Jesus after He collapsed. Jesus retched on the ground as several outraged Jews kicked Him where He lay.

***

A few of Jesus’ loyal followers wept before Him as He hung from me. A small group of Roman soldiers who had been instructed to guard Jesus also stood by. One of the soldiers had a long spear in his hand. He paced about nervously in the midst of the inexplicable darkness which had blotted out the midday Sun.

The soldiers had posted a sign above Jesus’ head which read, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS to mock Him. Unbelievably, even the thieves who had been crucified ridiculed Him.

“Why don’t you save yourself if you are the Son of God, o wondrous King of the Jews?” one of the thieves said. The vile man cackled like a chortling demon after his accusatory remark.

By the ninth hour, Jesus was so weak with pain that someone offered Him fermented drink, but He tasted it and refused. Sarah, Johnny and I were all near death as well.

“Johnny, Willow,” Sarah began in a frail voice, “you must repent and ask Jesus into your heart to see paradise--”

Johnny cut Sarah off in a belligerent tone. “Can’t you hear that?”

The only sound I could hear was Jesus’ labored breathing. I mentioned this fact to Johnny.

Johnny continued on in his snide tone: “Willow, it’s the sound of Him *dying!* Don’t listen to Sarah--you’d be joining the wrong side!”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Johnny was right.

Finally, after hours of brutal agony, Jesus cried out to His Father in a stricken voice: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” He gasped one last time.

The Son of God was dead.

***

The Romans had taken Johnny away with the dead thief, so I wouldn’t ever see him again. Sarah and I would also be dead soon, so it wouldn’t be possible for me to show her the depth of my love. But the least I could do, I thought, was let Sarah know where I would spend eternity and why this was so.

“Sarah,” I began, “please don’t blame yourself for my fate. I committed myself to the evil one long ago. I won’t see you after this. God could never use someone so tainted as me. You can’t save me. Not even God can save me.”

“Is anything too hard for the Lord?” Sarah said with a great gasp.

Barely, Sarah managed to show me her warm, wooden smile. I had to look away because it was too painful. It took me several moments to gather my composure. Finally, though, I realized that I could hold back no more.

“Sarah, I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Willow. Please t-t-t-turn to Jesus so we will be together in heaven.”

Sarah exhaled heavily.

“Sarah?” My voice was thick with tears.

There was no reply. She was dead.

***

With the death of Sarah, Johnny, and Jesus, it seemed that Satan’s victory was assured. But what if I was wrong?

To deny Jesus was a guarantee that I would never see my dear Sarah ever again. I couldn’t imagine spending eternity apart from her. Sarah’s death had opened the floodgates of my heart. I stood convicted, unable to resist God’s call as Sarah’s final words rang out in my mind, over and over: *please turn to Jesus so we will be together in heaven… please turn to Jesus so we will be together in heaven…*

With my final breath, I accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior.

***

The light of God shone down upon Sarah and me in the Kingdom of Heaven where we reveled in victory. I am so happy to be with her. Never have I experienced such bliss.

But, my dear friend, this is the most wonderful part of the story. Though Jesus died and was buried, over 500 citizens of Earth saw Him after he rose from His grave. He overcame death and we reign with Him in heaven now! My gratitude for the work He did on the cross will be with me for eternity.

You know what else I believe? If a hell-bound tree like me can be a friend of God, you can too. And right now, if you are not saved, I ask you: Is anything too hard for the Lord?


The End