Listening to God's Grace Rustling in the Aspens' Leaves.

So after a sweet time at church today Ethan got up from his nap and we went outside and had lime popsicles together. Ethan decided they taste like 7-Up, one of his favorite sodas. I agreed.
We sat on the side of the house in the only shade available at this time of day. It's just a small bit of shade provided by the house, but in this heat you need it, otherwise you feel like your skin is melting off your body, like the lime popsicles sliding off our sticks.
As I sat over there I couldn't help but listen to the lone aspen on that side of the house, it's leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Sounds like a waterfall.
I love aspens. I have six of them at my house, two of which were successful transplants from Graeagle (I mention the "successful" part because we tried so many that didn't make it). This particular aspen on the side of the house was actually a left over; the mother tree had died, but when I went to pull it up, I noticed a lone branch, no bigger than a stick the boys would use as a sword in an outside game, sticking out near the bottom of the trunk. For some reason it still had give to it unlike the rest of the tree which was dry and would crack off if you tried to bend it.
I pulled up the rest of the tree but I left the branch at the bottom. It was growing sideways so I stuck a rock near it's side to make it stand straight up. There was no hope of it ever surviving but at least until it died its natural death it would be straight; at that point in my life I just couldn't put a live branch in the trash can. Seemed wasteful. I'd let it die naturally and then throw it out.
Here's the thing; it didn't die. Ever. It's now one of the most healthy aspens I have ever seen. It's big and bushy and beautiful. That stick in five years has grown into one of our biggest trees on the lot.
There is no rhyme or reason. There was no toil on my part, unlike the work I had put into the many trees before it that didn't make it.
And whenever I look at this particular aspen I hear God's grace rustling in it's leaves, telling me to rest and stop worrying so much. Telling me that no matter how much I plan and prepare and seek advice and do everything  possible a human can do to make good decisions, God's will will be done.
He holds me, he cares for me, he loves me. He knows what trees will grow and what trees will die. So today I am trying to tell my little heart to listen to the shhhhh shhhh shhhh of the leaves, of God's heart toward me.