Armed guards within the Tower of London protect the crown jewels of England. Bullet-resistant encasements secure the documents of our country. Yet, the most precious belongings of the Israelites were stored in a chest built from simple acacia wood.

Ahhh…the acacia.

The tree towering behind our new home looked innocent, full of promise, a thing of beauty. Within a year, I cringed at the very thought of that acacia tree.

The limbs remained bare through most of spring, but by summer, thick, yellow pollen fatally smothered everything within its long-armed reach. Fall brought messy showers of tiny pod-like leaves impossible to corral.

Then the trouble really began.

Seeds exploded from the pods to take root, sprouting millions (okay hundreds – maybe dozens – but it seemed like millions), of baby acacia trees that invaded our yard.

How I loathed that tree!

And then I read Exodus 25:10. “Have them make a chest of acacia wood…”

If God chose to use that messy, destructive tree to craft the Ark of the Covenant, He can use me. Sometimes I’m spiritually bare. Sometimes what I touch is damaged and often I make a mess of things. He chooses me anyway. He polishes me, covers me with His righteousness as the ark was covered with gold, and fills me with the Holy Spirit.

He even lets me be a mom.