Today, as I was reading about bears, the “bear tree” got my attention. A bear selects a tree to make her presence known in a particular area. She does this by clawing it, ripping it, and rubbing her scent on it. In this way, she communicates with other bears that might come into her territory.
For some reason, I like the idea of having a “bear tree”—a symbol of presence. Even more so, I like the idea of being a “bear tree”—God’s bear tree, a marked symbol of God’s presence, a scented communication that God is here in this territory.
If only, like the tree, I would be that sentinel. A standing figure that permits God to do a bit of clawing, biting, and rubbing. A humble marker that allows a Godly proclamation to predominate. Instead, resistance uproots me, and I communicate something other than God’s presence.