The Healer and The Vine

When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
-John 5:6
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The cold January dawn brushed our cheeks with color as we walked. We were on our second turn around the park and light was gently nudging creation into wakefulness. We walked over the bridge and were greeted by several ducks waddling across the sidewalk quacking as they hurried toward the lake. Another duck seemed to laugh as though someone had just shared a delightful joke with him. The sun was not yet up but the eastern sky was a soft pink and it reflected beautifully on the water and then as if on cue two swans emerged from beneath the second bridge and they glided gracefully through the water as we watched. We continued walking as my heart rose in praise to the One who created the beauty my eyes witnessed.

We had passed the second bridge, leaving the swans to their morning waltz on the water and then Elizabeth suddenly stopped and exclaimed, “Mom. Look. It’s a Western Grieb!” I had never heard of a Western Grieb, let alone seen one but I recognized by the tone of my daughter’s voice and the way her eyes shone that what we were seeing was special. I followed her gaze and there on the water with the reflection of the promise of a new day turning the water different shades of pink mixed with blue was a beautiful bird. His covering was black as velvet and his breast was a dazzling white. His long graceful neck was spectacular. Without warning he suddenly dove under the water and completely disappeared from view and resurfaced a couple of minutes later several yards from the point where he had disappeared. We laughed at that. “He dives and catches fish under the water.” Elizabeth explained. “Western Griebs”, she continued “are normally seen further north. They may stop at the Salton Sea during migration but I’ve never seen one in Palm Desert. I wonder if he has a mate or if there will be more”, she mused. We watched for a moment more and then headed for home.

I went to my quiet time with the Lord full of praises for the beauty and uniqueness of His creation that He had prepared for my daughter and me to witness that morning. The One who loves me took me gently by the heart and led me to Psalm 65 and David continued my hearts song of worship as I read, “Those living far away fear your wonders; where morning dawns and evening fades you will call forth songs of joy.” I closed my eyes as my heart sang a song of worship to my King and words of joy and thankfulness spilled from my lips thanking Him for who He is and all He has done. I thanked Him for the special gift He gave to Elizabeth and me to see such a beautiful bird in the unlikely place of the Palm Desert Park. As I rose and walked into the routine of my day I didn’t know that the One who holds my days was weaving together a heart lesson of which the Western Grieb was to play an important part.

Winter turned to spring and brought soft breezes, gentle showers and carpets of wildflowers to the desert but in my heart seeds of resentment that had lain dormant for a long time began to poke through and no matter how much I tried to cover them back up or ignore their presence they wouldn’t die. I went to my heart’s Gardener about them. “Lord”, I cried, “if you would just speak to my husband and he would change in this area then I could keep my heart clear of these unsightly weeds.” Under His steady gaze I knew I shouldn’t allow this ugly weed in my life and so I got down on my knees and with the trowel of His Word I began to pull the weeds of resentment from my heart. They offered little resistance and I really didn’t even need to use the tool He had given me and so I set it aside and used my own strength to pluck the tiny plants. I felt a tinge of pride that I had made such quick work of clearing the weeds. I turned to see what the Master Gardener thought of my work but didn’t see Him. “Well done”, I said giving myself a pat on the back and looked with self-satisfaction at what I had accomplished in such a short time as I headed out to get a much deserved cup of coffee.

Life continued and the soft days of spring made way for the long hot days of summer. The Western Grieb continued his stay in the desert. Though we hoped other Western Griebs would join him, they didn’t come and he remained alone. We wondered why he hadn’t headed north to join his Grieb friends. We speculated that he was perhaps lost and like some human men wouldn’t ask for directions and so he settled in and acted like he belonged. Or perhaps he was just content to stay where there was food and water and had decided not to bother with the long flight. Whatever the reason I looked for him every morning and found myself looking forward to seeing him each day, like an old friend.

I plopped down in my quiet time chair in a huff. I stared at the ceiling and tapped my foot wondering what could be keeping Him. I knew I needed to quiet my noisy complaining heart but there was a part of me that wanted to hang on to the irritability. I could not understand how the Lord allowed this to continue. He always pointed out every little thing in me and yet He allowed my husband to do anything he liked and oh how that annoyed me. It isn’t fair, I whined to myself. And so I sat having a good old pout. Oh what a ruckus my heart was making and yet somehow in the midst of my whining I heard familiar steps and that still small voice thundered through my soul and I looked up from my self-interest and saw my heart’s Gardener and noticed He was holding a very large pair of pruning sheers in one hand.

He walked over but instead of sitting with me He remained standing. A thought suddenly came to mind and a smile lifted the corners of my mouth as I was certain the Lord must be headed to my husband’s garden. Being a woman I am a nurturer and I had many times gone into my husband’s garden to “nurture” it but was met with resistance. But if I went under cover with the Lord what could he say then? I was certain that once I finished his garden makeover he would be thrilled with it. A few well placed shrubs of romance, some trees of adventure that would yield fruit of thoughtfulness and of course streams of Living Water flowing in all the right places.. He’ll thank me when it’s finished, I thought. I began pulling on my gloves as I looked at the heavenly pruning sheers and wondered if one pair would be enough and if heaven delivered dumpsters. Happy that the Lord had heard my many prayers for my husband I looked up as I spoke, “I am so glad that you are on your way to do some pruning in my husband’s garden. Do you think those sheers are big enough? Maybe I should come and help you; it’s a really big job. Have you seen it? Better pack a lunch.” I saw something in His eyes I could not quite identify as He turned and walked away. But instead of heading into my husband’s garden I saw Him enter mine.

I hurried to catch up and found Him already hard at work. He was pruning back vines of busyness and religious activity. Those had taken me a long time to cultivate and their blooms were colorful, pleasing to the eye and their fragrance was soothing; everyone said so. What would they think or say when they noticed this? He was not bothered by what anyone else might think and He kept pruning until there was hardly anything left. He spoke and as His Word touched the various piles they were carried away. I shook my head; all that busyness had come to nothing. I turned my attention back to the Master Gardener as He took the tender shoots in His hands and fastened them to the stakes of His will and stood to survey His work. “Better”, He said. It looked rather bare to eyes that were accustomed to back-to-back activity but before I could respond my husband’s voice reached my ears. We were going out of town and he was ready to go.

My heart felt a bit raw after all the pruning and I turned to express the hurt I felt that the weeds in my husband’s garden were once again overlooked but the Master Gardener was gone and had left a note on my heart’s door. Dear daughter, I Am the Vine. I Am the Healer. I wasn’t sure what it meant so I folded His note and tucked it into a pocket in the corner of my heart to ponder later and turned to leave. As I was leaving I noticed weeds of resentment sprouting up again along with worry but I didn’t have time to deal with them now so I bent down and quickly took handfuls of busyness and rocks of guilt and covered up the ugly weeds then firmly closed my heart’s door and left.

“What happened to your leg?” my friend asked as we stood in the hallway at church. I looked down at my leg and saw the angry wound that I had hoped no one would notice. I smiled and told the silly story again, “We were at my in-laws and my sister-in-law’s new puppy jumped on me and scratched my leg.” “It looks infected,” she said. I walked away assuring her I was taking care of it. Later on at home I sat to look at it. Neosporin always worked quickly but I had been putting Neosporin on it for several days and it wasn’t any better. In fact, it looked angrier each day. A thought occurred to me that perhaps it was expired and I went to the medicine cabinet to check the date on the tube. I opened the medicine cabinet and taking the tube off the shelf I began to laugh. For the first time I noticed the small print on the label. NEOSPORIN – lip ointment. I had been putting lip ointment on my leg wound. My husband and I had a good laugh over it and then I put some Polysporin on it and by the next morning it was visibly better.

Summer wore on and I spent long hours in my heart’s garden. One particular Saturday morning found me on my knees pulling weeds that were deeply rooted. With all the weeding I do how is it possible for them to keep getting a foothold, I wondered to myself. “A couple of friends to help you watch for weeds might be helpful,” He said. I hadn’t heard Him walking in my garden and turned to see Him sitting on a bench in a shady corner. I felt His eyes watching me as I struggled to pull a weed of worry but it was stubborn and I knew it was one I tended to hold on to at times and my heart was reluctant to let it go. “Daughter, what tool are you using?” He asked. I was about to say, “The Trowel of your Word” but when I looked at the trowel it had clearly written on the handle ‘My Strength’. I let out a sigh of self disappointment as I realized once again I was working in my own strength instead of His. I was sure He was going to scold me but instead He gently said, “Come and sit with me a while.” There was no scolding in His tone, only welcome and I gladly took a seat and found rest in the shade at His feet.

Elizabeth and I walked in silence in the heat of the early August morning. It was humid and we both wondered if summer would ever end. We made our way through the park and as we crossed the first bridge we saw him, his beautiful head hidden beneath the surface of the water. At first we thought he was looking for food and we slowed our pace waiting for him to raise his regal head, but he didn’t. The Western Grieb was dead. “Oh”, I cried. “What happened to him?” Elizabeth said, “He didn’t belong here this time of year and he didn’t fly north so the heat probably killed him,” she explained. “How sad”, I thought and he probably didn’t even realize he was dying a little each day. We finished our walk in silence both thinking of the beautiful bird gone from our lives as suddenly as he had entered.

It was still dark and I was sitting in my heart’s garden scratching my head at the sight of weeds that had seemingly grown overnight. I recognized a few weeds from my husband’s garden that had once again invaded my heart and annoyance mixed with a new determination to deal with them once and for all entered my heart. I recalled the conversation my husband and I had a few days earlier. I had asked him gently if there was something I could do to help him keep up with his own weeding. At first he had said there was nothing but after a while he quietly said, “Yes. There is something you can do to help me.” He looked deep into my eyes and I felt joy as I waited for his words that would give me permission to take matters in hand and make his heart’s garden as beautiful as mine. I hung on every word as he said, “Diana, I want you to stop worrying.” He finished gently. I bit my tongue as emotions rose up inside of me. What he was asking of me was so unreasonable; so ridiculous. What did my worry have to do with anything!?

I turned my attention back to the weeds and in the darkness I crept toward the gate that connected my heart’s garden to that of my husband. I looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching and I quietly opened the gate and snuck in. I was surprised by what I observed. I saw fruit bearing trees and lush vines. But what surprised me most was the River of Living Water flowing through it. I knew it would be there to some extent but not that wide or deep. I found myself actually enjoying the beauty I saw there but then I saw them – the weeds. Just as I expected, I thought. I headed over and grabbed hold of a particularly ugly weed and I pulled and as I pulled it was as though a long rope was being unearthed and it began coming up in one long weed and then something so unexpected happened it disappeared under the wall that was between my husband’s heart and mine.

I stood there in the darkness holding one end of the detestable weed wondering where the root was. “What are you doing?” A familiar voice asked. “N-N-Nothing”, I stammered – not knowing quite what to do. I tried to hide the weed I was holding but it was too late, the Master Gardener saw it. He is Light and His very presence illuminated every corner and it was there in the light of His presence that I recognized the weed I held in my hand. Still clutching the weed and unable to stand in His light I fell to my knees and saw that intertwined with my husband’s heart weeds were my worry weeds. I began to cry as I saw that my weeds of worry were hanging onto some of the lush vines and were weighing them down until some of them hung low to the ground. I cried out as I saw that my own heart weeds had actually choked some of the tender plants the Master Gardener was cultivating in the garden of my husband’s heart. Wiping the tears from my eyes I began frantically grabbing at the worry weeds but they seemed made of iron and I was unable to grab hold of them. He drew my attention to Him as He said, “Diana, your husband’s heart garden is not the place to start your weed removal.” His Words lit the way and we headed back to my own heart’s garden.

I sat at the Well of His presence and He opened His Word to John chapter 5 and there He told me about a man who had been unable to walk for 38 years. “38 years”, I whispered. “That is a long time. I continued reading. “Jesus knew that He had been in this condition for a long time, He asked him, “Do you want to get well?” I pondered the question, “Do you want to get well?” I’m not sure why but that question brought to mind the note my heart’s Gardener had left for me and I hurried to the pocket in my heart where I had tucked it safely away and pulled it out and read. “Dear daughter, I Am the Vine. I Am the Healer.” I sat in the corner of my heart’s garden and read the note again and picked up His Word and turned to John 15 and read about the Vine and the branches. Then I returned to John 5 and read Jesus’ question again, “Do you want to get well?” “The Vine and the Healer”, I whispered trying to tie all the ends together.

“How’s your leg?” He asked. I was surprised by His apparent change in topic and I looked at the scar on my leg as I said, “Better. Once I put the right medicine on it, it healed quickly.” I didn’t even have time to take a breath as His voice rumbled through my heart, “I Am the Vine. I Am the Healer.” The shadow-piercing light of His presence illuminated my heart and I saw how I had been applying the wrong remedy to the weeds in my heart. Worry was spreading its poisonous roots and causing wounds not only in my heart but in that of my husband. I had landed in waters in which I did not belong, just like the Western Grieb. I had landed in the wrong place and had settled into the dark waters of worry and was unaware of how slowly it was stealing the abundant life the Master Gardener had given me.

Just as the time had come for me to stop applying the wrong medicine to my leg, the time had come to stop applying worry to deal with the weeds that had come into my life and my husband’s life. I knew then that I needed to stop doing the gardening myself and so I looked into the eyes of the Master Gardener and I placed all the tools I had been using at His feet. I asked Him to take over the gardening. I thanked Him for the pruning He had already done in my heart, even though it hurt and was a bit uncomfortable and would He please continue the work He had started. I asked Him to please pull out all my weeds of worry and any other weeds that might try to find a growing spot in me. I asked Him to keep and maintain my husband’s garden too and to make it a place pleasing to Him and to do it in whatever way He saw best.

I looked at His nail pierced hands and feet and in that moment He poured His Living Water onto the dry ground of my heart, “Daughter, I was pierced for your transgressions, I was crushed for your iniquities; the punishment that brought you peace is upon Me and by My wounds you are healed.” I could no longer sit before Him and so I knelt and bowed before He who knows me inside out and still He loves. Still He heals. Still He holds me firmly rooted to Him, the true Vine. My heart’s Gardener. The Healer and the Vine.


An Original Conversations at the Well
By: Diana Morgan
October 13, 2008