No one. Absolutely No One. No one likes to be pruned.
No American wants to go into a dormant period, quieted down and put into Winter slumber. We are all supposed to be go-go-go, grow-grow-grow, nonstop. Even when we have a “quiet time” we’re supposed to make best use of every second, eyes on the prize.
But trees must be pruned. https://www.lawnstarter.com/blog/tree-care/best-time-trim-prune-trees/ Trees that are not pruned are trees that end up diseased, with weak limbs, poor fruitbearing, and prone to snapping in high winds.
John 15:2 Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.
Note that pruning is what is done to *fruitbearing* branches, not failing branches. Those are taken away. No, pruning is a .. reward? Not really. But it is a thing done to healthy branches. To those that bear, to bear more, they are pulled back.
In nature…. errr… in horticulture, one also prunes back vines and brambles most strongly before a bad winter. Your prize rosebush is trimmed carefully, watered well, and then covered with a very large pile of mulch (perhaps even wrapped in burlap) to withstand winter’s whims.
I’m watching myself being pruned and my branches brought in and THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT. What I want is a life of significance, where I can use the myriad gifts I have been *given* in the Lord’s service. I want a direction, work to sink my teeth and my soul into, I want to make a difference. I do *not* want to rest.
But I am tired…….. and the storm is about to break…… and it is time to be turned inward, homeward, ever-more-Christward. As I struggle, I am being turned to face inside the walls of my home, inside the walls of my garden. It is time to rest. Time to listen to the Spirit, time to sink my roots even further down than I had ever imagined.
I can daydream of the bright days of Spring ahead, and hear the Word that someday, all that has been taken will be replaced, with interest, and that those dreams will be fulfilled in ways that I can, today, not even imagine – but for now, those are just whispers for tomorrow. For now, my work is in roots and in rest.