The prickly and the pruned

Besides born-to-bite dogs (see last week’s blog), I encounter many thought-provoking sights during my morning walks. One day I took along my camera to photograph two very different roses just a block apart. One is part of a neglected bed of about four rose bushes. A confusion of spindly canes spill out of the weed-choked soil, bearing few blooms. Another yard has weed-free, pruned, cared-for roses with brilliant flowers.

Their contrasting conditions reminded me of John 15, which records Jesus calling Himself the true vine and His Father the vinedresser. Verse 2: “Every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Roses aren’t grapevines, but they have commonalities. Both can go wild and get diseased, limiting their fruitfulness. That’s why, in my rose bed, every year I lop off dead or diseased branches, prune off suckers and encourage a “shape” that maximizes strength and access to the sun. The point of it all is to help the branches “abide” in the main stalk, drawing life and nourishment from the soil and water. The spiritual analogy, of course, is that we allow God to prune away the suckers and disease of wrong "me-centered" attitudes and habits that impair abiding in Him.

One of Max Lucado's insightful books is titled It’s Not About Me. In the book's acknowledgements, he told of having a quick visit with an old friend over lunch. Lucado asked him, “What has God been teaching you this year?” The friend responded, “He’s been teaching me that: It’s not about me.” Lucado’s book explores that concept, lifting up the glory of God as a reminder that it’s all about Him.

“Abide in me,” Jesus said, “and I in you.” He is the “main branch” to whom we must remain attached to know true life. The Greek verb (meno) that we usually translate “abide” suggests a continuing, nourishing attachment. No matter if you’re a rose vine or grape vine, you can’t attach and detach at your convenience, like the pump at a gas station. It’s an all-out commitment. And here’s another beauty from that passage. Meno, the verb form of “abide,” has a cousin in the noun form, mone. Know where that’s found? In the incredibly comforting message Jesus left us about heaven in John 14:2: “In my Father’s house are many mone" (most accurately, “dwelling places,” not the misleading idea of "mansions" as some of us grew up reading)." The nature of our residence in Heaven will be intimate connection with the Savior. How that will happen, I’m not sure—but God does.

For now, I see the Creator in carefully-tended roses that help declare the glory of God. And I’m reminded that God loves me so much that He won’t leave me the unruly way I am. He knows how and where I need to be pruned--to abide in Him, and to bring Him the glory.