A few months ago I visited a bonsai exhibit at the U. S. National Arboretum. As I wandered through the display of bonsai trees, I could not help marveling at the exquisite nature of the diminutive beech, juniper, pines, maple trident and magnolias.

Pretty pink blooms were spouting on the Chinese Quince, which has been in training since 1875; the leaves of the Japanese maple were a gold-sparkled green trimmed in a burnished red; ash white driftwood intertwined itself with the harsh gray bark of the more than 200-year-old California juniper. Such trees have been grown and trained over time according to ancient Chinese penjing and Japanese bonsai techniques of recreating in miniature the beauty of the landscape.

Bonsai tree from U.S. National Arboretum exhibit

The exhibit spoke to that which is spirit in me. It invigorated my soul and excited my mind, leaving me eager to learn how to grow and care for my own bonsai. That would be a huge leap of faith for both me and the unsuspecting plant that I would buy because I have a notorious brown thumb (and that has nothing to do with being a black woman.)

I returned to walk among the bonsai a couple more times, feeling drawn to the wisdom rooted in their age-old traditions and the discipline that shaped their growth. As sense of peace and well-being emanated from the trees that have been in training —clipped, shaped, wired, watered and nurtured — from as early as 1624 to the more recent 2004. Two of them had been cared for since my birth year, a gracious reminder of my own development shaped by the hand of God . Each visit brought wonderful moments of contemplation.

The exhibit became one of those adventures I could not keep to myself. Aftert taking a friend to a doctor’s appointment, I detoured on the way home and took her to see the bonsai.

Though she was a bit weary from months of medical treatment, she walked gingerly down one side and then up the other. She pondered the longevity of a juniper that had been in training for centuries and the giraffe-like shape of a maple trident. She enjoyed the simple beauty of the miniature trees and landscapes and allowed me to gush on about how much I had come to appreciate being among these unique plants.

The thought came to me later during one my excursions to the Arboretum exhibit. Faith, like the bonsai, is cultivated over time and with discipline. Faith also becomes more powerful when we put into action and share it with others.

Have  you share your faith lately?

Related posts:

1. Holding on with a knuckle-like faith