Julie Lavender

Consider the mistletoe

by Julie Lavender 

My walk with God today was brisk and purposeful: put a check-mark next to ‘exercise’ on my to-do list, start my morning with God-time, and, as always, take time to enjoy God’s beautiful creations surrounding me.

It finally feels like winter in south Georgia – though that’s probably temporary – and the mostly-bare trees appear brittle and lifeless. Their nakedness, though, makes it easier to spot the evergreen mistletoe 

conglomerations that seem to hang like disorganized ornaments on a Christmas tree.

 A holiday tradition practically as old as the decorated spruce or cedar, mistletoe sprigs dot the doorposts of many homes this time of year in anticipation of family smooches and couple cuddles.

Mistletoe Memories

No mistletoe hangs inside our house this year, but I love to look high in the trees for the green clusters. Finding some reminds me of the days when our oldest daughter, now married, wanted to be the one to shinny up the tree, break off a piece, and carry it home.

I can still hear the biologist patriarch of our homeschooling family teaching his lesson on the drive home: Mistletoe is a parasitic plant. When a seed finds its way to the limb of a tree – compliments of a bird’s beak or foot – it soon puts out specialized roots that actually penetrate the bark of the tree limb and then it steals nutrients and minerals and water from the tree.

Once the green leaves of the mistletoe appear, the plant does some of its own photosynthesis, but for the most part, it steals what it needs from the host tree. Most trees can survive with a few sprigs of mistletoe here and there, but too many of the parasitic orbs can actually choke and kill a hearty hardwood.

Eventually, the mistletoe plants exhibit small white berries that look really pretty at Christmas-time. The berries have new seeds in them, and the birds that eat the berries continue to spread more mistletoe to other trees.

Mistletoe Musings

I thought about the leafy thief on my walk, and wondered if it became a parasite after the Fall of Man, the same time those thorns and thistles seemed to come about in Genesis 3:18. I don’t profess to understand how all that transpired, but my faith is okay with that not-knowing.

Surely, many trees over the years would have preferred to shake off and rid themselves of the pesky parasites, but it certainly seems like they had a real live thorn in the flesh.

Yet, I think of those six words from Genesis 50:20, “…..but God intended it for good.” The Lord can bring good to accomplish His purposes.

.....but God intended it for good.

The rest of David’s mistletoe lecture in those days gone by included the facts that a surprising number of birds and mammals utilize the mistletoe for both food and shelter. Mourning doves, robins, pigeons, evening grosbeaks, bluebirds and squirrels enjoy the mistletoe berry delicacies.

Several hairstreak butterflies and their caterpillars also depend on the mistletoe plant for survival. Bees sip on mistletoe nectar and other insects chomp on the greenery.

Even the trees that suffer devastating effects from the choking mistletoe thieves

serve a purpose in God’s kingdom. The dead and decaying hardwoods become home to cavity-dwelling birds, like woodpeckers, fly catchers, and wood ducks.

The dangling poisonous, parasitic mistletoe that dots the otherwise barren treetops this time of year like tufts of hair serve a purpose – God’s purpose – and His purpose is always good.

The mistletoe thief on the tree reminds me of another thief on a tree – one that hung next to my Savior.

Because, after Christmas, comes Easter. 

And God intended it for good.

What lesson did you learn this week on your walk with God? 

Did God teach you something from one of His beautiful creations? If you'd like, share a picture of that creation on my Facebook page, Julie Lavender.  

Comment below and tell me about your walk with God.