Trusting the Gardener

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful"

John 15:1-2 (ESV)

This past spring, we did a lot of work in our backyard. One of my favorite additions was the many container plants with gorgeous blooming flowers that now dot our entire landscape. Always a summer go-to flower are my sun-loving petunias. They are easy to care for and one of the most vibrant summer flowers I've found. I often grab them in pinks, purples, yellows, and corals. In the early part of the season, I feed them a little Miracle Grow, and these fun little beauties thrive! I mean billowing and cascading over the sides and bursting with lush colors. It's hard not to be filled with the sweetness of summer while gazing at them, and this year they overflowed.

 Life had felt a lot like this, too recently. I'm just weeks away from turning 40 years old, and over the past couple of years, as I approached this milestone, my life circumstances have truly made me embrace this age. I have found freedom and confidence that I didn't know I could embody. It wasn't cocky, arrogant, or unhealthy. It was good. It felt pure, accepting of myself and even my flaws. God was blessing my ministry, and I felt His presence truly surrounding me. I had just finished my first year of college, making all straight A's, and for the first time ever, I didn't feel dumb. I realized that I might even be a little bit smart. Who knew? My marriage was the most intimate it had ever been. My kids were at an age where they were cleaning, feeding, and mostly entertaining themselves without my assistance. I had lost a few pounds, and even the parts of my body that were imperfect felt like I had earned the right to carry them around at this stage in the game. Life was good, and there was just something about this stage of womanhood that felt great. I thought, I'm still young enough to be energetic and have many years ahead of me but old enough to have gained wisdom through hard lessons that I'll never have to relearn. I just knew I would prance into 40 with my head held high, loving life.

 But then I spent the entire month of July traveling. I went on five separate trips within a month and was only home a day or two between each one. I hired my daughter and some neighborhood kids to care for my flowers during the various trips, and with adequate sunlight and water, they did great for a while. I didn't want to bother my plant keepers with more work, so I decided I wouldn't ask anyone to prune my petunias. I figured I would get to them between trips, but time got away from me, and I let it slide.

 As a seasoned woman of (almost) 40, one lesson I learned while trudging through my past trauma is that triggers can pop up in the most unlikely places. Toward the end of my travels, I encountered a situation that seemed to rip open wounds I thought had healed years ago. I considered them old scars by this point, but suddenly, once again, they were gaping open and bleeding out everywhere. It seemed to hit me out of nowhere and crush me to my core. My heart felt shattered into a million tiny pieces I wasn't sure I could ever put back together again. Once more, I felt like I had shrunk back to the broken little girl I once was. That same little girl I write to other women like me about and tell them to let go of. I was embarrassed at the thought. Where was the woman who had acquired such confidence and wisdom? A sense of inadequacy, shame, and insecurity seemed to blanket and silence her now.

 I returned home and quickly regretted not asking my plant caretakers to prune my petunias. They were beginning to look a lot like my heart felt. Just as I had slacked on caring for my flowers, I had also struggled to spend adequate time with Jesus in the busyness of my travels, too. This was evident by my emotions, and with my guard down, it opened the door for Satan to strike using his favorite tactic—-shame.

 The next day, I woke up early feeling angry at the people who hurt me, perhaps even a bit angry at God for allowing the hurt, and more than anything, angry at myself for going back to this mental space. I know the truth about God and His love for me. I know it deep in my soul. So, why was it so hard to believe right now? I went out and sat in front of each flower container, choked back tears, and pruned my long overdue petunias. I poured my heart out to Jesus, asking why He would allow this hurt to enter my world again. Things were going so well. 40 was going to be great! How could my heart fall so desperate again? I was feeling about as pathetic as the dry and withered stems I pulled away that day, but I was reminded that by getting rid of the unhealthy parts, I was making room for new growth.

 Then, I remembered this passage of scripture: Jesus told His disciples one day, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful" (John 15:1-2). ESV. Jesus continued explaining that to bear fruit, we must remain in Him. Branches don't bear fruit without their true vine. Branches by themselves only wither and die, so for the branches to thrive, they must depend entirely on their one true source. Then He explained to them, "I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete" (John 15:11). ESV.

Sweet friend, I've become solemnly aware that our walk of faith isn't a straight line. Often, we journey a steep, winding, and rocky road. Walking into my 40s with this newfound confidence seemed nice. It didn't feel wrong to have self-esteem and be happy, and it's not. But the honest truth is that without realizing it, I fell into the trap of seeking my worth through certain people in my life, and when those people hurt me (as people often do), I crumbled. True joy is only found through Jesus Christ. Our worth and our value can only be experienced fully through Him, and He doesn’t want us to miss out on that. His plan is for us to be utterly dependent on Him, our One True Vine. He prunes us so that we can grow sturdy and strong. He loves us too much to allow our branches to become dead and useless, and even if it's incredibly painful, He'll cut them back to allow for new growth.

  Perhaps you are approaching a significant milestone of your own. You may be only 20, or perhaps 60, but somehow this phase of life isn't shaping up to be all your heart longed for. Maybe you thought life would look different here. Perhaps you hoped you would have achieved more success or gotten over the trauma from the hurt, betrayal, or abandonment by now. Maybe you just thought life would be happier. Perhaps you, too, have gone through some hurtful situations that have left you asking, "God, why would you allow my heart to fall backward again?"

 Sweet friend, I want you to remember the precious promises He whispered to me that painful morning:

 He prunes the branches that He intends to bear more fruit. He has a plan within the pain, and it includes an abundance of fruit. I may not prance into this milestone of life with my head stretched quite as high to the sky as I thought I would, and that’s okay. Instead, my Gardener will lovingly guide me into these years, with my head rested upon His shoulder and a heart ready and willing to hand Him the pruning shears. Sweet sister- my soul knows this is a much better place to be, and I pray yours does too.