I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. 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. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire and they are burned. If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples.

~John 15:1-8

The sermon today was quite fruitful, if you will pardon the pun.

[I would like to remind you of the caveat of my current life: When I say I cannot remember, I cannot remember if I can remember. Still, I am mostly sure about the following.]

I am familiar with verses 5-8 of the passage above. I have known for a long time that I am a branch. However, today, Pastor D explored the notion of God being my vinedresser.

He actually gave me a preview of the sermon on Friday whilst here to mow my lawn, but the actual sermon was much, much more than the words he shared then.

After the service, he said that he saw me smiling while he was teaching and figured I knew what he was going to say. True, I did...in part. In part I did because I am intimately acquainted with being a vinedresser.

You see, I whack quite freely on my rose bushes two to three times a year. Some time mid-to-late summer, they start to fade. The blooms slow or stop and the leaves become sparse. It is then that I chop them down to about 12-15 inches from the ground and pour on some fertilizer. Doing so usually garners me another round of blooms that last until the first true cold snap. Once winter sets in, I lop them off to about 9-12 inches and pile on the mulch. However, if the winter is particularly sunny, I end up pruning the roses back once more at winter's end so that they have a strong start for Spring.

No, I am not an expert vinedresser. But I have come to understand what my roses need the most to thrive in the spot in which I have placed them. To an outsider, I may very well look as if I am trying to destroy them, but that is not the case.

[However, I should note that one of the five bushes has never done as well as the rest. That alone give evidence that I am not an expert.]

Yes, I have heard about being a branch, but I do believe that I have never heard a sermon on God being the vinedresser.

From the outside, His careful pruning could be seen as destructive. And whether the cuts are made to destroy or to rebuild, they are still cuts. Cuts are painful. So, it is all about understanding the One who is making them, trusting in His purpose.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.

~Jeremiah 29:11-13

I know that passage by heart, being one of the few that have not already slipped through the cheese holes in my brain. However, it has greater meaning to me now when coupled by the understand that God is my vinedresser.

Boy, do I feel as if I have been hacked down in the past year, but what I also know is that I am not being destroyed, even if it feels that way. Alas, could it be just a wise pruning? [Yes, I am smiling now.]

I have had many an argument with my mother, my father, and my brother about the need to prune my trees and bushes. For one, none of them care for the Rose of Sharon bushes-that-are-essentially-trees-in-my-back-yard. I like them. I like the fact that they hold their blooms late until the fall. I like the fact that they are blooming in the first place. Over the past seven years, I have even transplanted eight offshoots to the fence between my yard and the neighbors to create a more attractive visual in that direction. However, being bushes, especially ones that grew up in the shade of a giant tree that used to be in my neighbors yard, their root system is not strong enough to support branches that are leaning wildly to one side, branches that surely must have had a difficult time finding sun.

Were I to allow my family to prune willy nilly, I would have mere bushes left. Of that, I am sure. Yet, I do recognize that I need to straighten them out if I want them to continue to thrive. I have just chosen a slower course of action than would they. That meant that I pruned them consistently twice a year for five years. Then, a little more than a year ago, I hacked away one-third of the major branches on one "tree" and one-fourth on the other. It was time for the deeper cut for the best outcome.

Knowing that, I did smile, if not outright chuckle when Pastor D was preaching, teaching, sharing.... In part, it was because I am thankful that it is not I who is responsible for the care of my branches. Would I were, they would surely be a disaster. I smiled because I am rather glad that the God of all Creation loves me enough to whack away with His wisely wielded shears.

Today, I awoke regretting the productivity around the house of yesterday. My hands hurt so much that I struggled to get dressed for church and actually left the buttons on my cuffs for whoever was nearest the door when I arrived. I drove more with my wrists than with my hands. Everyone who wanted to greet me, dropped their hands when I shook my head and held my own close to my body. And I have only had milk and a protein bar all day since preparing food was out of the question.

Increasingly, I have had less mobility in my hands. I know they are not as clumsy as they feel, but I have struggled with stiffness and a loss of mobility. Today, aching, bitter pain was added on top of that. Several doses of different pain killers later, typing is still difficult, but they are somewhat better.

Still, I did not spend the day huddled in the green chair as I normally would on a pain-filled day. I actually walked with Kashi (he still has his harness on because I cannot get it back off), watched some Hulu.Com, and started memorizing the passage from John. I know I shall need to be remembering this one again.

Perspective is everything when it is grounded in such a profound Truth as the Word of God gives.

I am thankful for His grace which He shed upon me this day.