1 “I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. 2 Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away;[a] and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit. John 15. 1-2.
While we lived in San Jose (ok, secret’s out–the story took place in San Jose rather than Santa Clara–don’t tell!), I painted a picture (I’m not a painter, so it was purely for the sake of self-expression, not creating art) entitled “Pruned”. It was of a grove of trees, beautiful and lush, with blossoms and branches and green growth. Then, in the middle stood an ugly stick of a tree, cut and hacked up so it just stood and looked bare. That was how I felt. I felt as if all the beautiful, fruitful, lovely things in my life had been stripped away. Even my personality. I felt like my personality had changed. Instead of always feeling upbeat and optimistic, I had to constantly battle feeling depressed, discouraged, and defeated. A part of me was scared that I would never come back to be the “real Kari” again. AMazingly, when we moved back to Oregon, I felt like I came back to life. Once again I felt the joy and energy and enthusiasm for life that I’d lost. I’m not saying that I was being ruled by circumstances (although of course we all are to some degree), I’m saying that I feel that God pruned me while we were there. He, if you will, hacked me to pieces and took away all the things that I thought were fruitful and beautiful. But He did it for a purpose, just as His word says in John 15–that I would bear more fruit. His logic and method certainly is baffling to me because at the time it certainly doesn’t seem like fruit will come from a stick of an ugly tree. But He knows. Any vinedresser would know that that is how it works. And what amazed me was that it was true. When we moved to McMinnville I could see fruit in my life, my walk with Jesus, my marriage, and now in my relationship with my son.
I once again feel pruned. The circumstances are different (and much much better!), but the inward feeling of stripping away is the same. This time it’s smaller things–things like having my own place to call home, that I long for with every ounce of me no matter how wonderful my parents are (and they are!). I long for a “normal” life again, even though I know that’s not what we’re called to live. I long for some clue about what the future holds for us, but God asks me to trust Him. Sometimes I just want to be normal, just live a normal life with jobs and cars and a house and kids and I’d even say a dog if I didn’t dislike them so much. But that’s not the life we signed up for, we signed up for more. As much as I’d like that life right now, I want God most. I want more of Him. I want more of Him even if it means that He’s hacking me to pieces and cutting off all my beautiful foliage so that I can produce more fruit and know Him more. And I don’t say this is a dreary, dutiful, martyr sort of way. I say this knowing full well that knowing more of Him will be the most joyful and satisyfing experience on earth because He is the more joyous and satisfying Person on earth! Like Jim Elliot said, He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.
I’m not a very strong, brave, and courageous person. Christians around the world are risking their necks, giving all their worldly goods, and sacrificing their very lives, for the sake of Christ. I’m sacrificing very little. But the altar sactifies the gift–my life is given to Him. Help me to be brave, God, when You prune me. Help me to see the unseen future, when my season to blossom comes again.