A tangelo tree takes up about 80% of their backyard. He said it lost about half of its crop in the storm, but that cleared the way for the remaining fruits to grow bigger and sweeter. I’ve never seen a tangelo tree before. It rises high over the little home and spreads its ample branches, shading the tangled grass and roots. The fruit is the size of a grapefruit and the color of a faded lime, weighing down the waxy branches with their substantial weight.
I thought of how He is the vine and we are the branches. I thought about how He promised to prune the branches that bear fruit, so that those branches will be even more fruitful. I thought about how this poor tree must have felt during the hurricane, whipped and overwhelmed and thwarted. I’m sure it felt weak and worried, as it felt its beloved fruit torn from its barky fingers. It probably felt a lot like us, when we face our trials and the fruits of our pride are snatched by merciless wind. It probably felt a lot like me this week.
I’ve been struggling with sickness this past week, having to skip ministry with Samaritan’s Purse for 4 days. I can trace the source of this bizarre illness back to one moment, when on Tuesday morning, I prayed a stupid prayer. “Father, humble me under your right hand, that you might lift me up in due time.” Well, in case you were wondering, the Lord does answer prayer.
I wonder if God’s pruning shears is humility. I definitely didn’t ask him to prune me. I was very comfortable with my extremities, faults, and impurities. I thought I was bearing some pretty good fruit as I was, so I don’t know what compelled me to journal that small, foolish phrase, “humble me”. (I’m only saying it was a foolish phrase because what it cost my flesh, not the growth that it precipitated in my spirit.) Then proceed four days of fluctuating nausea, headaches, and fatigue, ending in an eventful trip to the second closest urgent care facility and a negative Covid test. Why was it glorifying God to keep me in quarantine instead of out at ministry? Why, if God wanted me to serve, was I being held back by my own body? How was I supposed to help people in quarantine?
But nothing is wasted. Because we know all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28) What if His purpose for me was so much more than Samaritan’s Purse? What if His purpose for me extends beyond World Race Gap Year? What if these things weren’t meant to be the ultimate thing, but to prepare my heart for the ultimate thing- eternal communion with Him? For He knows the plans He has for us, plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us a hope and a future. I will spread my weighty branches for my Father to clip, I will grow fruit that glorifies Him. And in the end, it will not be my own glory that makes me sing, but to Him be the glory forever and ever.
