KAPPY’S CORNER —The Mark

Many years ago I lived in a small beach town in California, USA. The town was liberally peppered with palm trees. One of those trees was just outside my rental house on a street corner. I enjoyed the shade of that tree on hot sunny days. I would sit at the base and look up into the fronds, watching the sunlight flash in the glossy leaves when the wind would blow. Sometimes I would sit and read in the grass, leaning against the trunk listening to the soft rustling over head.

One day I found the tree had been marked with spray paint. I thought it might have been the work of gang members, but a few days later, I heard a clanking outside my kitchen window. A man with a chain saw swinging from his utility belt was climbing my tree. A timid soul, I debated with myself whether or not to go outside, but when the man had climbed halfway up, concern for the tree won out.

“Excuse me.” The man stopped climbing. As he looked down I felt very small, but I had questions. I asked them one after another and he kindly answered them. Was he going to cut the tree down? He had orders from City Hall to do so. Was the tree diseased? No. Was the tree infested with something? No. Then, why? Because it was marked to be destroyed. Then he asked me a question. Is this a complaint? One citizen’s complaint will stop an action of City Hall until it comes up again in session. “Well, then I guess I’m complaining!” Good! He didn’t want to cut the tree down anyway.

Thirty years had gone by and my two sisters and my youngest brother were taking me to the corner in town to see if the tree was still there. There it stands. Still strong, the fronds still glistening in the sun, softly rustling in my ears, but twice as tall as it was the day I unwittingly saved it.

At the time I saved the tree I was young, strong and healthy. To all appearances I was fine, but I was marked for destruction. I didn’t believe it, but the mark was there. Finally, I could not go on believing that the mark was not there. How could I be saved? Then someone came and told me about the only One who could save me from destruction. I don’t remember who it was, but that person told me about Jesus—the way, the truth and the life. He is the only way to the Father and heaven. I’d like to say that I received the Lord instantly, but I didn’t. What I know is that I began trusting in and loving my Savior about twenty-seven years ago. He removed the mark and replaced it with the seal of the Holy Spirit. The seal will never be broken. I am His forever!

The mark is gone from the trunk of the palm tree. As time went by, it weathered away. One day that tree will die, despite my efforts so many years ago. People, unlike trees, don’t just turn to dust after death. We have souls. We go on, either to eternal suffering or eternal life. There are people like I was who bear the mark of destruction and there are people like the one who came to me (maybe timidly) who told me about Jesus. If we can save trees, can’t we, by the grace of God, tell someone today about the only One who is able to remove the mark and save their souls from destruction?