PRUNING

           PRUNING

I cared for you in the desert,
     in the land of burning heat.

Hosea 13:5 (NIV)

I sat on my favorite boulder as Teddy and Gracie roamed the back yard while I savored my first coffee of the day.  The eastern mountains stood in shadowed stillness waiting for the Master’s hand to awaken the dawn, sending shafts of color gently across their faces.  I heard the sound of familiar footsteps and my heart turned to see the Master Gardener looking at the Madagascar plant that stood gracefully along the stone path near where I sat.  Seeing Him there made me think of pruning which brought thoughts of loss and a kind of sadness descended on my heart that felt as heavy as the oppressive heat of the desert darkness before the dawn.

He who rules the seasons sat down next to me, His presence inviting me to tell Him all that was on my heart.  While the morning star shone down on me a mere clay vessel and on the Creator, the very One who had spoken it into existence, my heart nestled at His feet and began to pour out things that had been hidden away deep down.

“Lord,” I whispered so softly that even I had to listen closely to hear my heart thoughts, “this year has been a year of pruning—a cutting out of things.”  He waited for me to continue.  “My life has changed so much in the last year.  Some of my friends have moved away.  My days have been re-ordered outside my normal routine.  My vacation is nearing an end and when I get back I will be moving into a new office.”  My thoughts trailed off in the stillness as I noticed that there were an awful lot of “my” which suddenly appeared as ugly and unwanted limbs.

He who loves perfectly spoke to me from His Word. 

“I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener.² He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.³ You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you.⁴ Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.⁵ “Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.⁶ Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned.⁷ But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted!⁸ When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.⁹ “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.

John 15:1-9 (NLT)

The eyes of my heart looked again at the “My” branches and saw clearly how the Master Gardener with perfect precision had been pruning the unfruitful limbs from me which had at times been painful.  As I thought about this a few questions emerged and I knew He had woven them into our conversation.

When Marc is pruning the desert plants does he ask the plants which limbs they would like removed?  As he places the shears to the branch does the plant cry out, “no, not that one.  That limb is my favorite?”  Is it not the gardener who knows what is best for the plant?  Is he not the one who knows the limbs that sap strength and steal blooms?

I sat quietly pondering the questions and recalled how just recently Marc had pruned a beautiful lantana bush that grew along the winding path in the front yard.  I had not been pleased about it at all as I stood staring in disbelief at the bare sticks that remained for he had cut it clear to the ground and there was not so much as a single green leaf remaining.  “Oh you killed it,” I said with annoyance mixed with shock in my voice.  Marc’s words came to my mind now as clearly as if he sat here with me, “Diana, it was necessary.”  I had noticed only yesterday that it was covered in green leaves and soon buds would appear and cover it in color giving it even more brilliant beauty.

I knew then that I had been trying to tell the Master Gardener how to do His work.  Silly me!  The Master Gardener knowing I needed water of the Living kind poured out His Words on the desert sands of my heart and I felt it soak deeply into my heart.

“I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.” 

And then…

Dear one, “I cared for you in the desert,
             in the land of burning heat.”

Hosea 13:5 (NIV)

My heart nestled ever closer to Him who is Life and I felt loved and well cared for by the Master Gardener in the desert where I live—the land of burning heat.  The eastern sky had begun to wake up and in the soft light of a new day He pointed out to me new growth and my heart rejoiced, for after the pruning comes the blooms that give glory to the Master Gardener.

Joy!

An Original Conversations at the Well

© Copyright by Diana Morgan, August 10, 2012