Purpose Driven: Lessons from an Evergreen

By: Drew Martin

You wouldn’t notice it now just driving by, but I remember when we first planted it. I had to be around five years old at the time. We always considered it my brother’s tree, and as a kid, it honestly didn’t mean much to me. When the roots first hit the soil, it couldn’t have been much taller than me. But twenty years later, it’s noticeable—stretching well over the shed next to it. It’s widened, too, taking up double the space. How tall will this evergreen be in 50 years?

I’ve thought about my brother’s tree more as I’ve returned to visit the place where I grew up. I was the last of four generations of Martins to grow up on that farm ground in Edelstein, Illinois. There’s a photograph of our entire family just before we tore it down seven years ago. My firstborn son is in my arms, just a baby, blinded by the light on a sunny day. The fifth generation of The House of Martin only caught a glimpse of the home his great-great-grandfather built in 1917. I wonder about this man. Did he know what he was doing as he laid the foundation? Did he know how many living souls would spring forth in that home? Or was he just trying to survive and make a living?

We can learn from trees. Someone made a conscious, long-term decision to plant something small and to bless the future. If you ask me, past generations were better at this sort of thing. They left their native countries to build a better life for generations not yet born. They embarked on 200-year building projects. I doubt you could convince someone to build the Notre Dame Cathedral today, knowing they would not live to see its completion. These people sacrificed the present for the future.

I wish I thought more about my great-grandchildren. I think I’d be a better man. I’d pray more, love God, my wife and kids more. I’d think less about things that don’t matter and spend less time on my phone. I’d probably plant more trees.

There’s an old Chinese proverb: “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago; the second best time is now.” When I see my brother’s tree, it reminds me that small, faithful decisions matter. They are seeds—seeds that can grow into something strong and impenetrable for generations to come.