Truthfully, I just wanted to throw them in the trash and start over. I had given up. They weren’t pretty anymore and just too much work.
They were brown. Crinkly. Past their prime. Scorched by the sun.
My sweet mother, ever concerned about the landscaping of my home, treated me to three beautiful hanging baskets while I was in Ghana.
They weren’t doing too well when I returned and after I spent a week trying to get back into the swing of things, those once-alive and beautiful flowers were done.
With the exception of a few green stems that peeked shyly from under the brown, flimsy death that was once filled with life.
There they were. And there I was personifying those sprouts until I thought that surely I must be crazy.
I couldn’t throw those living plants in the trash. That’s like being buried alive.
So I went to work on salvaging and saving the lives of those who dared to survive the drought.
It took longer than I had planned, but I transplanted the survivors into hanging baskets with new coconut liners that retain more water – a necessity during the scorching summer months of the Midwest.
A new environment. Water every day. Sunlight. Nourishment.
Love.
And eventually, those branches that I cut-off, they began to bear more fruit.
Someone took the time to invest in them. They were loved and nourished and had the benefit of a caretaker that was committed, a caretaker conducting a little experiment to see if it was true.
Would He really cut off every branch that doesn’t bear fruit and those that were, would they really bear even more?
As the gardener, I had to remove the dead branches from the living – they were keeping the ones that were alive from flourishing to their full potential. I knew better than they did.
Huh.
And I’m sure that if we could hear plants, they might wince a bit when they were pruned. When parts of themselves they had grown quite accustomed to were removed.
They might feel a little naked without those dead branches. They might miss them even though they were a detriment to their maximum potential.
But the result of the pruning, weeks later, was a beautiful resurgence of flowers that bloomed to a simple and pretty abundance, more than they even were before.
Linking up with Internet Cafe Devotions for Word Filled Wednesday…
And now they are beautiful.
Pruning is hard and uncomfortable, and most often painful. But it is so necessary in our lives if we are going to make room to bear fruit! Beautiful post.
Dear Sister, how wonderful this post is. I need to prune….I need to get rid of my old ways that come back and get on my knees and this is such a great reminder to me. Thank you!
OUCH…I mean, AMEN!
No worries, dearie…My Loverbrains continues to take off for far off places…E starts K…etc. Life is life…we’ll get it together eventually.
Ohhhhhhhhh yes…He cuts off and it hurts like the dickens…but I’ve learned a thing or two…it’s because He loves me and it WILL make me better…why then do I resist it still?? Wonderful, wonderful words friend!
God is doing some pruning in me today…thank you for this!
Wonderful! I love how easily we can relate to God’s Word! It never feels good to be pruned, but oh so necessary.
Happy WFW!
Beth
I am going through a pruning process right now and it is painful… thank you for this post.
Natalie,
I love your description of the pruning process and the great care taken to water and nourish the flowers. Our loving Lord God cares for us so deeply.
Blessings
Thank you for the lovely post – Flowers always do me good :)