We moved into our home almost 19 years ago. Obviously, there were many things we liked about the place, but one of my favorite features was the mature Blue Spruce on the north side of the house. It offered refuge for numerous varieties of birds and provided a bit of shelter from the bitterly cold north winds.
Several years ago, a neighbor expressed a bit of frustration with the tree. Seems some branches had grown so long and hung so low, he kept running into them when mowing his lawn. So, he asked politely if I’d mind if he trimmed them up a little.
I didn’t think that was such a hot idea, but I did understand his complaint. We have a similar problem on the other side of our back yard. A small tree/large bush (?) in the neighbor’s yard extends its spindly branches across the fence, and I have to fight through them when I’m mowing.
I thanked my neighbor for sharing his aggravation and promised to take care of the tree.
It seemed that just trimming back a few rogue branches wasn’t the way to go. Thought the tree would lose some of its beauty. Instead, I opted for trimming off all the branches from the ground up to about seven feet.
In my opinion, for what it’s worth, I thought this cleaned things up rather nicely. Every fall, for example, tons of leaves used to collect around the base of the spruce, getting trapped in its branches, and it was a terrible pain trying to rake them out. Most of the time, the leaves just died and decayed there. But after the trim job, the ground stayed nice and tidy, the tree looked good, and the neighbor smiled.
Years went by, and all was well with the spruce.
Until about three or four years ago.
Things didn’t look quite right….
It was quite evident that the giant was ill…gravely ill. Many lower branches simply died. Others were thinning out. I feared the worst—he was dying a slow death.
And I felt guilty, as if I was to blame for cutting off so many branches.
I’m not an arborist or the son of an arborist, nor did I Google “Why is my blue spruce dying?” I just sort of recalled hearing something years ago about how trimming branches can allow disease or insects to infect your tree if you don’t…do something. Don’t ask me why I didn’t remember that when I was hacking branches.
Anyway, I concluded that I must have opened the floodgates for some kind of parasite or tree disease, and now my favorite tree was heading for the mulch pile.
Turns out my amateur pruning may not have been the problem.
We finally got a tree trimming and removal company to come take a look and give us an estimate for a conifer funeral. I shared my theory with the expert; he quickly downplayed it.
“No,” he said confidently, “it’s a fungus that loves to infect spruce trees in our area. I’ve seen quite a bit of it. They’ll live 30 or 40 years, get the fungus, and that’s it. Nothing you can really do about it at this point.”
Well, that was a relief. Sort of. Even tree funerals are pricey!
Turns out I could have saved myself some woe if I had done the query. Did so a little while ago, and Google confirmed the tree expert’s diagnosis. According to Perdue University’s Forestry and Natural Resources site,
Rhizosphaera needle cast (Rhizosphaera kalkhoffii) is a foliar disease of spruce trees. It is most common in trees growing outside of their native range. It starts on the inner and lower growth and progresses upward through the tree. It can take up to 15 months for the needles to show visible symptoms after the initial infection. Young trees may be killed by this disease, but usually branches die off after 3-4 consecutive years of defoliation, causing trees to look disfigured.
[https://www.purdue.edu/fnr/extension/ask-an-expert-question-came-in-blue-spruce-dying/]
Nevertheless, at this point, because of the tree’s age and the extent of the fungus’s impact, the only option is for it to come down. Had I realized what was going on three or four years ago, a fungicide application may have cured the poor guy.
Too late.
So we’re well into a process that should get wrapped up in a couple days. This time next week, topsoil and grass seed will have to serve as a grave marker, I suppose.
Indulge me as I share a couple of spiritual applications from this experience, if I may.
First, I need to be careful not to take on unnecessary guilt. There’s plenty in my fallen condition to have felt guilty about, to be sure. Of course, the right way to handle that is through repentance and, if necessary, restitution. But once handled, the wonderful truth about forgiveness—divine forgiveness, at least—is that it’s done and over with. See 1 John 1:9, for example, or Psalm 103:12.
But sometimes I can feel guilty when I’m not guilty. Like when I don’t measure up to someone’s unrealistic expectations—and I wrongly think I should. Or how about this. Anybody ever blamed you for something you didn’t do or weren’t responsible for? I have a couple of those t-shirts. More than once, I’ve struggled with such accusations. Am I really at fault? Could I or should I have done something differently? Usually, I can come up with something and learn from it. But in the end, the accuser was wrong. It really wasn’t my fault. Some other parasite infected that person’s heart.
Second, ignorance isn’t bliss. “You don’t know what you don’t know” is certainly true and will sometimes let you off the hook, but the tree still dies, and you may pay a stiff price in the end. Nothing blissful about that. A little seeking for answers, a little effort to find a solution might very well mean several more years of enjoying the blessing of a vibrant evergreen.
Why do some people have to deal with hardships that others successfully avoid? Sometimes the answer is rooted in scriptural ignorance. Not always. Sometimes. Isn’t this, really, the emphasis of the book of Proverbs? Hear its opening words:
To know wisdom and instruction, to understand words of insight, to receive instruction in wise dealing, in righteousness, justice, and equity; to give prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the youth—
Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance… (Proverbs 1:2-5)
Proverbs 1:2-5
And heed wisdom’s appeal:
Wisdom cries aloud in the street,in the markets she raises her voice; at the head of the noisy streets she cries out;at the entrance of the city gates she speaks:
“How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?
If you turn at my reproof, behold, I will pour out my spirit to you;I will make my words known to you.
Because I have called and you refused to listen, have stretched out my hand and no one has heeded, because you have ignored all my counsel and would have none of my reproof, I also will laugh at your calamity;I will mock when terror strikes you, when terror strikes you like a storm and your calamity comes like a whirlwind, when distress and anguish come upon you. (Proverbs 1:20-27).
Proverbs 1:20-27
The point? Ignorance isn’t bliss. It can save you from a world of hurt!
“…whoever listens to me,” says wisdom, “will dwell secure and will be at ease, without dread of disaster.”
Proverbs 1:33
By the way, just so we’re clear, it’s not enough to know stuff. That’s only part of it. Wisdom can be defined as “the skill to use knowledge correctly.”
So getting back to my dearly departed tree. Suppose I had learned four years ago that a fungus was starting to eat at it from the bottom up, and all I needed to do was apply a fungicide a couple times a year.
That’d be knowledge.
But going to the store, buying the right kind of fungicide, mixing it appropriately, and applying it would be wisdom. Assuming nature will fight back against the fungus and kill it would be foolish.
So, no, ignorance isn’t bliss…but wisdom will lead you there.
And you just might spare the tree, too.
