Sprouting Synapses
This article is part of the Claritas spring 2025 issue, Connection. Read the full print release here.
BY CHRISTINA CHENG
my mind is a tree,
branching within each moment in time.
neurons weave, and strengthen fast
their connections, firm and true.
my mind is rooted in the faith I hold,
as God’s majesty filters through.
as branches of the pear tree blossom,
yielding sweet fruit in time,
so, too, the branches of my mind bear harvest:
fruits of the Spirit, deep and divine.
I. love
amygdala
whispers, fear takes hold,
dopamine
rushes bold.
fleeting highs will never stay,
slipping like sand, drifting away.
the void may be large,
the world’s gaze beckoning
to indulge in neon lights and clinking glasses
vain promises, shallow and sinking.
but there is no love like Agape:
God and His love without condition,
a perfect love that casts out
the fear of man and fleshly desire.
II. joy
at 5 there was arithmetic:
each puzzling long division problem was a race,
but never would her rival stumble.
at 8, off the block she leaped,
into the chlorinated pool to race.
but fingers brushed the wall two seconds too slow,
no prized rubber duck acquired, only tears trickling onto the swimsuit,
wicked away by the nylon.
what vain a chase for ephemeral delight—
towards success shall we strive, or the unseen eternal prize? [1]
what momentary, trivial afflictions we face this life—
did not He bear immensely greater burdens?
etched into His broken body was agony and anguish.
but, for the joy set before Him, Jesus endured—[2]
the anterior midcingulate cortex
fires,
the place where perseverance takes hold,
where the weight of the present is measured
against the worth of what is to come.
when happiness flees, when success seems so great,
only joy will truly stay.
set aside the weight of today and respond to the near in light of the far.
fix your eyes on that which God delights in,
that which will not fade.
III. peace
fourth table from the arched Kirby window:
a Bible open, highlighters scrawled about the table,
a crimson apple, a nearly empty water flask,
and a weary mind.
at this hour the Scriptures beckon,
come! read, and find solace
Jesus awaits, eager for your attention,
so give Him your time.
default mode network
, the inner mirror, sparks divine connection
with our dearest Companion, our sole source of peace.
long term potentiation
guides the believer’s steps:
as you hide His word in your heart,
rewired your thoughts will be.
transformed you will be by the renewing of the mind, [3]
for with the Lord by your side, temptation subsides.
anxieties and doubts dissipate, replaced with peace
and assurance
of His ever faithful work to provide.
eat the bread of life,
knowing worldly food will not sustain,
will not ease the hunger,
the longing we have for the Savior.
IV. patience
what I learned in the kitchen:
cut the apple from the skin side up.
use more oil than you think to fry an egg so it does not stick.
to steam cauliflower, you need water, and a lot.
be still and listen,
as the dorsal raphe nucleus
lends an ear
to a mother’s voice, a woman who,
in patience, tends the leeks in the garden
in patience, endures complaints
in patience, maneuvers through the crowded pickup loop.
and arrogance I will set aside,
patience I will seek,
when one day I make her leek pancakes
witnessing her loving provision for me.
V. kindness
kindness is the mother who forgave her child
for the careless swinging of arms and a broken chandelier.
and the cheerful worker at Goldie’s
who remakes the strawberry acai for a begrudging customer.
and the man who offers his hand
to the fearful hiker navigating around the steep rocks.
the limbic
system parses through bitterness and frustrations,
and the urge arises to hate, to despise.
but with the Lord by our side may we withstand the urge of pride.
may we seek to forgive,
opening the eyes of the blind
to His love and light.
VI. goodness
sunrise spills gold on the canyon’s spine,
etching His glory in each rugged line.
mountains rise, walls bearing whispered prayers,
God’s fingerprints resting everywhere.
feet press into the russet-red dust,
earth-worn trails shaped by wanderer’s trust.
the air is crisp and clean,
each breath a spark of serotonin
sky so endless, so cobalt-bright,
it spills with His presence, bathed in light.
and at the summit, breath held tight,
the red-rock cathedral blooms in holy sight.
not from the world, nor fleeting thrill,
but from the Lord—ancient, still.
VII. faithfulness
there is a distressed student emerging from floods of rain,
accepting the fate of a three hour exam taken in sopping linen pants.
but the hand dryer in the locker room is God’s faithful providence,
its air offering warmth,
as the chilled cloth heaves away its moisture.
today, I choose to count my blessings.
I thank God for the old, tattered bookmark
peeking from the pages in my novel.
four lines from Lamentations:
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.” [4]
the words of Jeremiah my hippocampus
contains,
remembrance of past blessings to help embrace future provision.
but His unseen mercies remain steady,
faithful, and always near.
VIII. gentleness
09.13.23. 10:02 p.m. home.
went to school and didn’t get home until 10 bc swim practice
then orchestra, and i was trying to carry my heavy cello into the house but
my bag kept getting in the way so i couldn’t open the door and i’m tired.
11.16.24. morning run. village of cayuga heights.
a lovely 54 degrees outside, partly cloudy.
40 feet in front, a lady carries her groceries,
and I thought my footsteps would be loud enough,
and she would hear and shift a bit to the side.
she didn’t hear my steps.
and then my ankle buckles
as my feet move to the grass.
why did she have to be there?
well, the sidewalk is for people to walk.
let not the fallible man give into flesh.
let not the mind wander toward judging paths,
let not the tongue be restless and hard to tame,
let not the heart linger at the precipice of pride.
IX. self control
eyes meander to the pineapple and oats scattered on Morrison’s floor.
a hand briskly settles on the plate,
a smile offered to the frazzled girl as she offers her thanks.
running six minutes late, uncertainty arrives.
should I have helped, was it worth the time?
mundane small decisions fill our days,
prefrontal cortex10 paving our way.
but each choice is a reflection
of His limitless mercy lavished on us.
what little we possess may we consecrate at His feet:
for His sacrifice for us on the cross was great,
immeasurably great, immeasurably worthy of our praise.
X. my mind, a growing tree
a life rooted in Christ is like a pear tree.
its branches may bend in the wind, but its roots hold firm,
drawing strength from the living water.
with every thought, with every breath,
neurons forge journeys,
new brain networks start to form, neural plasticity11 finding a foot.
His Spirit moves, His love takes root,
keeping our souls transformed.
in a world rife with sin,
in Christ the True Vine we must remain,
producing lasting fruits of the Spirit
as He waters our hearts and our minds to fulfill His reign.
[1] Philippians 4:13 (NIV)
[2] Hebrews 12:2 (NIV)
[3] Romans 12:2 (NIV)
[4] Lamentations 3:22-23 (NIV)