Long ago, in the faraway land of West Texas, someone once handed me the keys to a Kubota backhoe and said, “See all these mesquite trees? Pull ‘em up.” It was a dream come true! The little boy in me jumped at the chance. The steel! The dirt! The POWER! I was giddy. Until I attacked the first mesquite with my machine.

Mesquite trees look like easy prey. They’re short, scrubby, and thin. They look like a stiff breeze could turn them into overgrown tumbleweeds, but they are deceptive devils. Their wood is nearly twice as hard as oak, and they have taproots that descend all the way into Hell. They do not give up easily.

There’s a lesson here for me.

Emotional resilience is the ability to “bounce back” from challenges with increased strength and wisdom. It’s the ability to withstand the onslaughts of life without becoming overwhelmed. The mesquite tree is a paragon of resilience.

But for us humans it’s flipping hard to learn emotional resilience! We’re not born with it. And the fallen world does its best to uproot us everyday. I mean, just when I think things are going smashingly… SMASH! Something bad happens. It’s the metaphorical backhoe of the world trying to rip me out of the stable ground. Trying to smash me to bits and throw me on the fire. Have you ever felt that way?

I want to be more like a mesquite tree. Rooted so deeply that I’m able to withstand the heartache, betrayals, failures, and all the thousand natural shocks our fallen flesh is heir to. Able to be resilient even when I’m being hammered by the backhoe of loneliness, relational rupture, and suffering.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel my feelings. That’s a kind of icy, lonely hell of its own. That's how I want to be different from the mesquite tree. Instead of being rooted in stubborn resistance and fear, I want to tap my root into the deep, compassionate love of Jesus.

Jesus welcomes my feelings. He gives them a home. Jesus assures me that God himself is for me, so no one and nothing can ultimately harm me.

I know that’s not easy to believe—not easy to feel like it’s true. I really wish that I had a magical spiritual practice that would flip the switch inside our brains and make bad feelings go away. But I don’t. I can, however, point you to another tree. The mustard tree that started out as a tiny seed, which Jesus said was “enough.” Faith can be a very tiny seed as long as it’s planted in the soil of Jesus’ love. God will tend it and grow it.

What sadnesses, anxieties, fears, are trying to rip you out of the ground? I invite you to say your feelings, your complaints, to Jesus and listen for his true response. Does he think you are trash? Does he think you can’t handle it? Does he think you have no hope? Does he think you should just buck up? No. You are loved. You are not alone. You are his.

Let your roots cling to him. He will make sure you grow back and bend without breaking.