Spiritual Metaphors
Spiritual Words and Symbols_Amy Swanson
Sometimes we find treasures and gems buried in the most unexpected places. And sometimes, the most spiritual experiences take unexpected shapes. Fifteen years ago, my husband and I received a gift of this sort when we were handed the leadership of our church, New Life Church. We inherited a congregation of generous, loving, committed people, and we were trusted with a valuable and cherished church property that was under construction and falling apart at the foundation. Yet, hiding in the church’s basement rubble was a spiritual gift we had yet to uncover.
Our church building was constructed in 1965 by a faith-filled congregation of 60 people with a vision far beyond themselves. They were a congregation with a forward-thinking mindset and wanted to leave a legacy of faith as a heritage in our city. Those 60 people built the church with their very own hands and their very own money. But they constructed the foundation directly on top of a flowing aquifer—and for years, a steady stream of water became a corrosive element to the church’s foundation, eroding the security of the building.
So, in 2009, God spoke simple words to me and my husband --‘Restore the Foundation.’ It turns out that these words had greater significance than merely repairing French drains and broken concrete. For two years, we dug deep and repaired the exterior of the church, and as we did, a spiritual rebuilding and restoring work took place among the people. With just two words, God initiated our congregation into a season where we completely excavated the physical foundation of our building, burrowing down to the river bottom and securing any breaches, and at the same time, we embarked on a spiritual journey. Through that season of physical work, God accomplished emotional and spiritual healing, routing out rocks and debris that had settled into people’s hearts. Men and women were freed from physical addictions, broken families were restored, and others found renewed purpose and joy in their faith. As our congregation rallied together day after day, physically laboring toward a unified vision of a repaired church, they were also supernaturally infused with new purpose and new hope for their own lives.
In my experience, God often speaks through metaphors and physical objects. A year after our church restoration project was completed, our congregation blessed me and my husband with an anniversary gift. They presented us with a plaque that was placed under a tall Sycamore tree on State Street in downtown Santa Barbara.
I will admit that I sometimes feel like a terrible person. Because first and foremost, I’m not very grateful to live in this beautiful beach paradise. I have always longed to live somewhere other than Santa Barbara-how terribly selfish and ungrateful I am. Secondly, on that anniversary back in 2010, I was hoping for a more personal or decadent gift—maybe a gift card to a fancy restaurant or a pretty item to display in my home. Like a spoiled child, I was deeply disappointed about receiving a tree plaque. But I rallied, put on my best fake smile, and offered some insincere words of thanks for the commemorative inscription.
“This Tree is dedicated to Pastors Dale and Amy Swanson. Donated by the people of New Life Church who love Santa Barbara.”
But while I was walking back to my seat in the front row, something profound happened. I heard words from God that exploded deep into my heart. “Amy, don’t despise this gift. I have rooted and planted you in Santa Barbara.” Those words stopped me in my tracks. And to this day, those words have propelled me forward many times.
There are days when I still struggle living in Santa Barbara, and sometimes I dwell too much on what I think I’m missing, and I indulge myself in vain imaginations of life elsewhere. When those negative feelings overwhelm me, I often drive downtown and walk along State Street, where I can physically lean against a towering Sycamore tree that stands in the center of my city. The inscription is still there with words proclaiming my love for Santa Barbara. They are words that I did not initiate, but they are words that God wrote in my heart.
As my husband and I get closer to our 60th year and talk about ‘what’s next’, I often pray that God will tell me it’s time to uproot, but I don’t know if that will happen. It’s probably difficult to transplant a deeply rooted tree. The soil must be blasted off the roots without damaging them, and there is the likelihood of the nutrient supply being interrupted. Even so, I do anticipate spreading my leaves in a new environment someday in the future.