My Juniper Tree

1 Kings 19

1Ki 19:1 Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword.
1Ki 19:2 Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, "So may the gods do to me and even more, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time."
1Ki 19:3 And he was afraid and arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there.
1Ki 19:4 But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree; and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, "It is enough; now, O LORD, take my life, for I am not better than my fathers."
1Ki 19:5 He lay down and slept under a juniper tree; and behold, there was an angel touching him, and he said to him, "Arise, eat."
1Ki 19:6 Then he looked and behold, there was at his head a bread cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank and lay down again.
1Ki 19:7 The angel of the LORD came again a second time and touched him and said, "Arise, eat, because the journey is too great for you."
1Ki 19:8 So he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mountain of God.


It was a warm, overcast day in late November. After many months of unemployment, my husband Dennis was busy with his new job and was gone many hours a day. This new job was physically challenging after many years of sitting at a desk and his pay didn’t cover the basic costs of our monthly expenses. When he was home, he was tired and not able to interact much. My daughter was gone, estranged from the family while living in NC. I was working at a before and after school day care and homeschooling my son Brad during the in between hours of 9:30 -3:30. I also worked with Brad delivering papers for three routes in the morning before leaving for work at 5:45 AM. I was trying to help my mother stay as independent as I could, with the help of my sisters with shopping, cleaning, laundry and trips to the doctor. I was also involved in some ministries at my church, teaching a small group called MOPS and had a small Bible study in my home once a week,

The pain and affected areas of my fibromyalgia was increasing. Insomnia was a unwelcomed nightly intruder and I was so tired.

This particular morning Brad and I snapped at each other while delivering papers. Dennis was upset because there were no clean socks. I talked to my daughter the night before and it did not go well. My mother was upset about something I could not do in her time frame and Brad balked at his math lessons I had planned for the day. Bob the bill collector called me reminding me of a past due payment and my house was a wreck, with dirty laundry calling from the hamper.

I was stressed, busy, tired, sore and feeling used, abused, neglected, unloved and unneeded. Thoughts of death and ending my life’s struggles were creeping into my mind and heart.

I told Brad I was going for a walk. I walked to the cemetery across the main road not far from my house. As I entered the quiet cathedral of trees sighing with their fading fall colors, I started crying and calling out to God….let me find a Juniper Tree today.

As I followed the snake shaped path that winded through the open tomb of stilled voices, I found the perfect little tree…almost like a miniature weeping willow…perhaps I would find a little rest and solace with my weeping friend of nature. With no one around but an army of ants, a few quarreling geese and the squirrels like sentries in the trees, I sat down and cried out to God.

Lamenting that all of my efforts to make life better for others was unappreciated, undermined and often unwelcomed. Asking Him why life had to be so difficult, so wearisome, and seemingly thankless. I cried just as Elijah, “Lord take my life…end this endless cycle of hardships...that I may rest. There is no one who needs me any longer, no one who wants my help or care. Who cares Lord, who cares? “

I looked up and through drowning eyes whose tears made odd shaped polka dots on my t-shirt could see an ancient boat size car rolling slowly past me.

It parked and as I watched, the man slowly emerged, sloth like, as in slow motion from the driver’s side. With labored steps and breath, he walks over to help his wife to her feet from the old worn leather seat. With winkles like cracked craters of wisdom on their faces, eyes dimmed after a thousands sunsets, and backs bowed as gently but greatly used violin bows this elderly couple walked toward the trunk.

Not a word was spoken between them. They had that silent but amazing form of talking without words that can only come from many years of life together. The look from the eye, a soft touch to the hand, a gentle nudge in a certain direction…all totally understood.

I could hear the tired moan of rusted, creaking hinges as the lid of the giant cave like truck yawned open. Together, they pulled out a plastic milk jug filled with water. It took some effort and time to get it out of that trunk. The woman started carrying it into the grass…a balancing act of water jug, a walking cane and heavy feet. Fascinated, I watch as the man, reached in, and almost falling into the truck to retrieve another water jug.

I wiped my eyes, jumped up and ran over. Standing beside this bent man, I asked “Can I please help you?? He said, “Please help my wife to our son’s grave, the grass is uneven and I am afraid she will fall.” I ran to the wife and with thankful eyes and a sweet smile, she handed me the water jug and hooked her arm in mine and she led me to her son’s grave, his name etched in bronze in a carved stone.

I looked back and the husband was struggling with a jug of water, I ran back to the car, looked inside and their were many more jugs of water, a shovel, a spade, a snipping tool, some mulch, a bottle of cleaning liquid and a large soft cloth. I told him I would walk him over to his wife and would be happy to help bring over anything they needed from the trunk.

As I gingerly walked him over, he told me they needed everything from the trunk. This was cleaning day for their son.

After my many trips back and forth, they finally had everything they needed to start the quarterly ritual they have performed every year since their only son died in Vietnam.

I said, “let me help you. Let me honor your son and his service to my county and to me. Let me help with the cleaning this time. You tell me all about him and what a wonderful son he was while I work. Tell me what needs done and I’ll do it.”

There were two small pine trees on each side of his weathered stone. They told me to start with those. They planted these their first Christmas without him, in honor of his love of Christmas. They needed a little trimming, and a loving pat of mulch around the base to keep them warm during the coming winter.

They told me of a bright, strong, healthy, humorous young man who loved McDonalds, football, card games and Christmas. He loved his county and had no second thoughts after joining the army right after high school. He loved his Mom and they planted flowers and vegetable gardens together and he would laugh every time she beat him at the many card games they played. He loved his Dad and treasured the many football games they attended together. They so enjoyed each other during the lazy afternoons fishing. They laughed much while learning to shoot a gun at empty green bean cans in the backyard.

I trimmed, I watered and worked through tears dripping from my eyes as they told me that they keep his bedroom exactly the same as it was when he left to join the army. They proudly display his pictures, medals and flag from his casket in the living room.

The last ritual, they would not let me do. Only Mom could do this job. I helped her to her knees and watched as she held the very soft cloth and gently and gingerly cleaned the polished surface of her son’s marker. Very quietly, as though no one else was with her, she hummed and sang a little song. When done she held the cloth to her breast, laid her hand with crooked fingers, and transparent skin spotted with patches of age on her son’s name…and sighed… then whispered “Merry Christmas and goodbye”…and asked me to help her up. “It is time to leave” she said.

As they joined hands and walked to the car, I ran back and forth returning the tools of love to their car. As I closed the lid, they were holding hands and looking at me…and the mother said “You were so kind and so helpful and listened to our stories…this we do for our son and it is getting harder and harder to do …..We didn’t think we could do much today and today was especially important. You see, I have cancer and this will be my last visit and my husband will not be able to do this alone.”

She continued…”You are such a blessing...it is so strange that you were here at this very moment…we rarely see anyone on the days we are here. Can we pay you for your trouble?”

I told them no pay was necessary….that it was an absolute honor, privilege and blessing for me to help them and serve their son in such a small way. I told them they were there for me more than I was there for them. I thanked them for letting me help them. I hugged each one as I helped them in the car. With tears running down my face, I waved good-bye as they drove away.

I remembered one more question they asked me “Are you visiting a loved one.” I told them no, I was just resting under a special tree and left it at that.

But as I went back under the tree….I thanked God it was Him I was visiting and not the grave of my son, or daughter or husband.


As I sat there, I thanked God for the refreshing of my spirit through that sweet couple and their much-loved son. It was not bread, water, or rest as with Elijah and his visit under his Juniper tree….but to me just as miraculous and refreshing. The love of this couple for their dead son, reminded me that God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son for me…and I am here to gently and lovingly keep Christ proudly displayed in my heart and mind no matter the circumstances.

This elderly couple were my messengers from God. The message was clear…sometimes life’s daily challenges and struggles can wear us down and cause us to focus on the unimportant, the insignificant, the irritations and the things gone wrong.

Like Elijah who had just been part of and experienced the greatest mountaintop experience in his life…..was troubled by Jezebel’s words and started focusing on Jezebel and her threat on his life. Suddenly Jezebel became larger then God and he ran and wanted to die.

My lack of sleep, no clean socks, troubled relationships and Brad not wanting to do math…became larger than God. God lead me to my Juniper tree to show me Himself through a sweet couple that needed help making the last visit to their son’s grave the most memorable.

When I entered the cemetery that day, I had tears of defeat, anger, frustration and sadness…when I left I still had tears, but they were tears of joy, praise, and thanksgiving for a refreshed and renewed sprit.

(This happened mid 1990's))
(May be copyright protected)