The Pruning of the Lord
It was mid-March and we had just returned from a glorious time in Australia where we had been ‘proper’ grandparents to little Theo, 22 months, and our first grandchild. I say ‘proper’ because prior to that, our communication through Skype calls had convinced him that we lived somewhere inside or behind the television!
On this particular morning, I woke with the song ‘Hallelujah, Our God Reigns’ and it stayed with me as I began the day. I looked out into the back garden and my attention was caught by the framework of a yellow clematis. I had pruned it heavily before our trip as we had had to replace the fence and it had lost its old climbing frame. This was a traumatic event for it.
Looking more closely, it became apparent that a large section had died during our absence, actually the part I particularly wanted to keep. As a result, I had to go out and remove a significant amount of dead wood. Another area, however, was thriving.
I felt Father prompted parallel thoughts about Coronavirus and the Church. We too are experiencing a trauma: possibly some of our ‘favourite’ activities have been cut out. Other unexpected areas may thrive and develop. Could it be that, in order for us to thrive again, we need to embrace some pruning, flow with the new areas of life and see what God has for us in this season? It may look very different later this year, but, if God is behind it, it will thrive and be beautiful.
When I shared my thoughts with Henry, he reminded me that pruning isn’t negative; it is absolutely not punishment: it is an invitation to fruitfulness. Jesus talks about pruning in John 15:2:
“Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.”
A few weeks later, I had a further picture, based on a leggy old shrub in one of our flowerbeds. You will have noticed that there is often a gardening theme with me! This shrub was in the right place but had exhausted the nutrients in the soil. Also, over the years, other things had grown up, and there was no longer room for it. It needed to go, but it was hard to dig it up: it had been part of our lives for a long time. We needed to be radical. We could have tried to restore it with pruning and nutrients, but it was past its time, and we needed to move on.
These two pictures seemed to suggest that we should not be sentimental about activities and ways of doing things which, in the light of today, look as though they belong to a past age. Yes, we could revive them with time and effort, but surely there will be greater fruitfulness if we reach into God for what He wants us to be doing right now.