Sticks In the Ground

(This post is a continuation to the post from January 1, 2014) 
...When a rose bush has been pruned it is not much prettier than before the pruning began.  The stems are appropriately trimmed or removed, but it still looks like a bunch of dead branches set in the ground.  Nutrients have been worked into the soil for good systemic growth but blooms and foliage have yet to appear.  Pruning is something a gardener does for a future bloom – a future beauty and harvest.

I noticed as I read through the previous blog that after pruning I skipped straight to the beauty that’s found in the bloom.  Isn't that what we often want to do - skip past what is difficult or unlovely?  However, as I walked back outside and noticed the roses along our front walk, I could not deny the fact that they were still just a few sticks popping up from the ground with no real apparent beauty. They were still dormant and without the welcome of soft blooms, they could still prick an unsuspecting-someone as they walked by.

That is the picture of a pruned heart.  There’s no visible evidence of the work that has been done except for the thorny sticks in the ground.  It’s quiet and unadorned.  At times when others come close our thorny places still impose unexpected pain because we are not yet ready to extend a soft welcome and let them in.  We wait, like the rose…

...Under the ground, where no one can see, there is work being done.  There is a private fellowship with the Trinity where systemically, God is pouring nutrients into the soil of our heart as we let ourselves stay “dormant” and close to Him.  It happens as we place ourself before his word and hold it as a light unto our feet.  It comes alive as we sit silently before him inviting his presence to come near.  It becomes active when we discipline our steps toward his love in and through us.  And it comes tangibly as we let others share the winter with us among the thorns. 

The sight of the sticks in the ground outside of my front door is a visual reminder that just sticks in the ground are OK for a while.  I needn’t hurry the blooms…


How are you, like me, tempted to hurry the blooms?

Where are the thorny places in you that may bring accidental pain?

How are you engaging God's word in the process?

What feels vulnerable as you consider letting others and God in?

How are you letting God and other's in, even when it means being a bit "thorny"?

"Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side. Bear patiently the cross of grief and pain.  Leave to thy God to order and provide: In every change, He faithful will remain.  Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy Heavenly friend...
...Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end."

Surrendering to the Shears... a New Years Resolution

(I actually wrote this yesterday and thought I'd wait to post it but a conversation this morning has reminded again of some needed "pruning".)

This Morning I was greeted by three thorny, intrusive rose bushes.  They line the walkway to our front door and have grown quite gangly as they’ve been left unattended. So earlier this afternoon I grabbed my pruning shears and set out to do a little pruning.  I was struck by how overgrown they’d become. They hardly looked like roses at all and weren't their beautiful selves for sure!  Some stems had to be clipped in excess of 4 feet! 

Pruning is one of those things I avoid like the plague but once out there I find myself in conversation with God and I wonder why I would ever procrastinate such sweet encounters. Maybe it’s the mess and prickly thorns that I don’t like.  Maybe it’s simply inconvenient and I don’t want to be bothered or interrupted.   Maybe I don’t readily see the value that pruning brings.  Maybe it’s all three.  Well, like it or not, pruning must occur for roses to be ready in the spring; and my out of sight, out of mind approach has produced a rather deformed and diseased set of rose bushes.

 John 15:2, “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.”

 "Angel Face"

As I mingled with God among the thorns I was mindful of a different pruning – the one that God does in us.  I'm tempted to avoid moments like that because it’s messy or inconvenient and I neither want my daily routine interrupted nor my heart disrupted.  However, when our heart is left unattended the places that need pruning become painfully obvious.  Life becomes about me, I'm easily irritated, sometimes dismissive, and often lack love. Thorny, overgrown branches prick and sting others while my soul becomes deformed and diseased. 

Thankfully the story does not end there.  When we "surrender to the shears" God does the needed work to shape our life into a resemblance of His beauty and presence that is good and kind.  One of my favorite bushes in the garden is call "Angel Face", they're quite fragrant and offer such a sweet aroma in passing.  We are not much different.  When Christ takes form in us we are his fragrance to the world (2 Corinthians 2:15) as it passes by and encounters us.  It happens in us the same way it does with the roses the as they lie pruned and dormant in my garden this winter.  As we let God work on the places in our heart that require his love we will be nourished and made ready to produce bountiful, fragrant blooms when the season comes for the sun to cascade its warmth and shine it light once again.  

So for 2014 I have the resolution to surrender to the shears when opportunity comes...albeit painful and hard, it alone holds the promise of spiritual beauty in due season.

What are the thorny gangly life-branches God may be drawing your attention to this year?

How can you open yourself up to his pruning work?

Spend some time imagining what a beautiful expression of his life in you look like once he has done his necessary pruning?