Tag: growth

Fruit and Blight

Long gone are the icy mornings and barren grounds of winter. If the calendar and the heat didn’t prove it, these tomatoes would.

One of the benefits of growing cherry tomatoes is how quickly they ripen. My larger tomatoes are only light green now. These will slowly turn pink and then red, but it will be weeks. But these little beauties are ready to harvest now.

To plant something and actually produce food is amazing. Yes, you expect plants to produce when you plant them, but there are so often complications. The weather, the soil, predators, and storms often interrupt your plans and limit what grows. These lovely little red tomatoes validate the work. Clustered like grapes and sweet to the taste, they will brighten my meals for days.

Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundred-fold, some sixty, some thirty, Let anyone with ears, listen. Matthew 13:8-9.

Not all my soil is good. A problem has been brewing for years, and I have been ignoring it. Instead of the problem going away, however, it has gotten worse. Tomato blight. There are several different forms of this, but they are all based in the soil. There are diverse ways to combat tomato blight, most of which need to occur post-season.

For now, I am going to dig up my dead plants and the soil around them and put new dirt and new plants in the ground. The harvest will be late if this works, but at least I will get tomatoes.

In a “perhaps my husband knew best” nod, one of the main ways to reduce tomato blight is to let the ground be covered in clover during the off season. I have abandoned Nick’s practice of tearing down the fence and letting the garden go to grass over the winter. (In my yard, the ‘grass’ is predominately clover.) I stopped this practice to avoid tilling every spring, which is considered harmful as well. But the presence and frequency of blight have increased every year in my no-till garden.

Crop rotation is another option. As I am hoping to alter my garden space this fall, that may be the cure, but all of these are solutions for next year. For now, I will need to try a short-term fix in hope of recouping my lost plants.

All of which makes these little beauties an even better treat.

Amid the blight and dying plants, these tomatoes are bearing fruit. They are not letting the death of the larger tomato plants over there limit their growth or production here where they are. I can learn something from this.

No longer is the soil of our world conducive to bearing the fruit of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps it never has been. Kindness and gentleness are as rare as red tomatoes in a blighted field. On the other hand, what a treat when we see them! What a witness to the better way, to peace and love and joy, to the presence of God. We may be living in the time of Judges, when everyone does what is right in their own eyes, but we can keep our eyes on Jesus and bear the Spirit’s fruit.

By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. Galatians 5:22.

Join me in renewing my soil today so we can bear fruit. Such fruit is bright and cheerful and sweet and beneficial to the world.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Garlic Varieties

I planted a different kind of garlic this year than I have in the past. These are hard neck garlic instead of soft neck. I didn’t understand the difference until I grew them. After all, garlic doesn’t have a neck, right?

They could be called hard stalk and soft stalk, because these plants look quite different from my previous plants. This garlic is growing tall on stems that are as hard as bamboo, with fat white buds that are opening to fluffy purplish flowers. My others waved like tall grass, bending in the slightest breeze.

But as different as this plant looks to my eyes, both plants are still garlic. What makes them garlic is not the stem strength or the presence (or absence) of a flower. What makes them garlic is what is growing out of sight underground.

I know this because I planted them.

Could God be showing me something here?

How quick I am to judge those whose expressions of faith look different from mine. How quick others are to judge me. Do you raise your hands and jump about? Do you sit silently in your pew with your hands in your lap? Do you only listen to Christian radio? Do you watch church online or on the television? Do you preach the narrow path (Matthew 7:13-14) or that Jesus came for sinners (Mark 2:17)?

Unlike me, God knows what He planted. He knows the important part of our faith may be hidden in the dark underground, in the secret moments of our lives. Outwardly our faith may look quite different, but God sees the heart.

Perhaps it is not how we express our faith that is important in the end, but that our faith is growing deep withing us.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearances, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7.

As mortals, we look at appearances. In the seventies, a question went around – “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” Do you attend church? Is your Bible dust-free? Do you help the needy? Do you know praise music lyrics? We want that external evidence. We fret a little when our external evidence doesn’t look like other people’s. We fret when their faith doesn’t look like ours.

I’m not fretting over my garlic. I know what is growing in secret. The external evidence, as different as it may be, still indicates that something is growing. Hard neck, soft neck, flower or no flower, garlic is growing.

So that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. … But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you…. So that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:4, 6:6, 6:18.

I urge you today to rejoice in the variety of ways God allows us to express our faith, to share His love for us with each other, and praise Him. He knows what He planted. Let us help it grow, knowing that it grows in secret.

Love in Christ, Betsy

See the Bright Side

Something has taken three of my cucumber plants. Not nibbled them or broke their branches but taken the entire plant from the ground.

There are several possible culprits. Squirrels are always my first choice for the bad guys, but it’s not their usual method of destruction. It’s not really deer behavior either. It seems more like something a raccoon would do, and they definitely live in my yard. I suppose they could have climbed the fence, but they never have before.

Even more confusing is that they have taken the plants on three separate occasions. What animal has suddenly developed a taste for cucumber plants?

I could get upset about this, but I am choosing not to. Instead, I am trying to see the bright side of this development. Gardening gurus tell me that I should stagger plant my cucumbers, that is, plant a few, wait a few weeks, plant some more, wait, plant – therefore ensuring a longer harvest period. I have always ignored this advice and planted them all at the same time and harvested them all within a few weeks.

This year, for reasons beyond my control, I will be following their advice.

Sometimes, we just need to learn things the hard way. And it makes me wonder what other things God has had to teach me the hard way. Either because I would not follow advice, or because some lessons can only be learned through living through the situation.

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4.

Now, that is looking on the bright side!

Perhaps I am growing into this approach to trials. I am not upset about the lost cucumber plants, but grateful for the (albeit forced) opportunity to stagger-plant. The disappointing lack of publisher interest in my fiction writing has pushed me to concentrate on a new devotional. A theological shift in an old group has led me to discover a new group that encourages me to question and grow in my faith. Sometimes trials draw us closer to a personal God, a redeeming Christ, a sustaining Spirit.

And if our goal truly is to become more Christ-like, if we truly are seeking the Kingdom of God first, then anything that furthers that end is a gift, a blessing, a cause for joy, even if not for giddy happiness. And this could be true for more than just stolen cucumber plants. This could be true for chronic disabilities, sudden health scares, the loss of friends and loved ones, disruptions of all shapes and sizes.

So, we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure. 2 Corinthians 4:16.

I encourage you today to look on the bright side of whatever trial you are facing. An ailing parent, a struggling child, discord among friends, physical limitations, daily frustrations, cosmic fears, or garden thieves.

Knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Kind Words

A perfect morning. The sun shines in a clear blue sky. The grass is wet with dew. The ground is damp with yesterday’s rain. It’s 75 degrees at 7:30 in the morning. Perfect.

No harvest this morning. The sugar snaps are gone, and the rest have yet to produce. No “work” to be done, no harvest needing attention. Just a restful, beautiful morning to bask in God’s marvelous creation.

I congratulate the plants on their progress. What large new leaves the fig has grown, how healthy the oregano looks, and a tiny green pepper – congrats!

The evidence that talking to your plants helps them grow isn’t conclusive (Penn State Study), but it can’t hurt. They are living things that respond to their environment. I sense that they know that I care how they are doing. I check if their limbs need support and gently lift them onto the cages. I pull a few random weeds and try to make their environment as conducive to growth as possible.

I sense I should be doing this for the people God has put in my life as well.

Therefore, encourage one another and build each other up, as indeed you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11.

Paul repeats this exhortation in Romans 14:19, Ephesians 4:29, and 1 Corinthians 14:26. The writer of Hebrews encourages us to meet together and encourage each other (10:24-25). This seems to be an important part of Christian living, and yet we need constant reminding to do it because we so often fail at it.

Some mornings, I don’t walk in my garden. It will be fine without me. Some Sundays, I don’t go to church. Some days. I don’t check on my friends who are hurting. Surely, they will be okay for a day or two without my interference.

Sometimes, when I do gather with friends, I am more focused on what others are doing wrong instead of what they are doing right. Usually, that is someone or a group of people who is not present with us. We bemoan what “they” are doing, all the people who have it wrong, who don’t agree with us. On occasion, I have been known to criticize someone I am with, in love, of course!

I rarely criticize my plants. (I would say ‘never,’ but I can’t be sure about that!) If they are struggling, I help them. If they need water, I water them. If they need support, I provide it. Gentle words of encouragement and praise. I don’t recall ever complaining about the cucumbers to the tomatoes, or vice versa, although they grow very differently.

Are you not a precious plant growing in God’s garden? You will grow differently than me. You will look different, act different, respond differently. You may bear different fruit. God may have given you a very different purpose for your time on this earth than He gave me.

But as it is, God arranged the members of the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” 1 Corinthians 12:18-21.

Instead, perhaps, we should be congratulating those who express their love for God differently from us – on their faith, their determination, their growth, and their evident love. Perhaps, we can learn to trust that God will produce in them the fruit He desires, just as we trust that He will produce that fruit in us.

And if I only spoke words of love and encouragement to those around me, what a beautiful day every day might be. It might even be perfect.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Shift

No matter what the calendar might indicate, summer is here. School is out, the pools are open, Memorial Day is over, and the sugar snaps have succumbed to the heat. It’s summer.

I had a good sugar snap harvest this year. Not my best but far from my worst. It was a little warm and dry for these plants, but the peas were sweet and crunchy and enough to share.

I could be sad about my brown and brittle plants. It would be wonderful if they could grow and produce all summer, but that is not what sugar snaps do in Tennessee. They grow in the Spring, they produce in May, and they die when the temperatures get into the eighties. Instead of being saddened by their relatively short lives, I am grateful for their delicious fruit and the joy of the harvest that they brought me.

Already the rest of my garden is calling for my attention. Leaves cover the fig and the raspberry. The tomato plants grow taller by the day. I have already picked basil leaves, and the garlic is beginning to mature. The garden continues to grow and produce.

After my husband died, I found it disturbing that the world continued. I suddenly understood the old practice of stopping the clocks, covering them even. If you can’t turn back time and bring your loved one back, at least you can try to stop it from moving on. Because you don’t want to get over their death. You don’t want it to be true, and the longer you live with the reality of their passing, the truer it becomes.

But while the sugar snaps are dead, the garden is not. I am coming up on the seven-year anniversary of Nick’s death. Time has continued. New plants have grown in my garden; new interests, new friends, and new hobbies have arisen to fill my days. Maybe even one day, romance may resurface, although I am not planting those seeds and am not ready for it to appear.

I sense the shift, though. Ever so slowly, I am turning my attention from the brown and brittle hurt of loss to the green and growing life around me. The lake beckons. My children and grandchildren thrive. My friend group expands. I find myself going to new venues to hear live music. I am learning to blend the old things and the new things.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1.

I still twinge at the thought of moving on though. I still love my husband. I still miss him. But the hot weather that kills the sugar snaps makes the tomatoes and cucumbers grow. And their fruit is delicious as well. The garden has taught me that different fruits require different environments, that not all fruit appears at the same time, and that good things can grow under any circumstance. This is true in the garden; this is true in life.

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28.

And summer can be a glorious time, full of play and water sports, and vacations, and a break from routines. Summer is a time for beach reads and family reunions, travel and sitting by the water. Summer is a time for red tomatoes and purple figs, cucumber sandwiches and fresh raspberries.

Join me in the shift. Let’s turn our attention from grieving the loss of what was to celebrating what is and what will be.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Fruit!

Like green candy dangling from the vine, the sugar snaps are ready to pick. Crisp and crunchy and sweet. What a joy to have this harvest while my other plants are still in their infancy.

This fruit is not a surprise. I planted and cared for these vines precisely for this purpose. But my plans and effort do not always yield fruit. There have been years when the seeds didn’t sprout, years when the plants struggled to produce, years when I have not been here to harvest the peas.

The lack of fruit in the past makes these peas taste even sweeter.

Like the first morning I woke up looking forward to the day ahead. It was more than a year after Nick had died. Covid was in full swing; the world was depressed, and I was just one more sad soul. I didn’t plant sugar snaps that year. I didn’t plant anything. But it was a gorgeous sunny day, and I was going to spend it at the lake, on a boat, by myself. And I was looking forward to it.

The warm sun, the gentle breeze, the chirping birds, and the ripples of water against the shore were a feast for the senses, a gift from God that had nothing to do with the presence or absence of others.

We try, in this life. We try to be faithful, we try to be good, we try to be kind and loving. We try to be successful, or wealthy, or popular. We try to be good parents and good friends. We plant seeds and hope that they will grow. We water and feed and support. And, sometimes, we think we have accomplished what we set out to do. Other times, the seeds don’t sprout, we aren’t fruitful, or we can’t enjoy our success when it comes.

And then God reminds us that He, and He alone, is the giver of all good things.

Do not say to yourself. “My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.” But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth. Deuteronomy 8:17-18.

Occasionally, someone will taste one of my sugar snaps and want to grow their own. This is the best reward of all. You too can have this fruit in your life. It will take a little effort on your part, but it is so worth it. You will have failures and unproductive times, but when that fruit shows up, it is wonderful.

I pray the Holy Spirit bears such fruit in my life that others desire it and ask me how to grow it!

In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame. 1 Peter 3:15-17.

I crunch on another sugar snap and let the sweetness fill my senses. God is so good in His gifts to the world. Sunshine, water, fruit, hope, joy, peace, and something to look forward to.

I hope you step outside today, soak in the sunshine and breeze, listen to the birds and skittering animals, and sense God’s presence and love. I pray you take His seeds, plant them in your life, and bear sweet fruit to share with the world.

You can’t do it on your own. Only God can do it and only when you let Him. A great harvest awaits and the fruit is sweet.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Kink in the Hose

The morning is quiet. Only the birds greet my presence in the yard, and their conversations most likely are not about me. A gentle breeze barely moves the leaves on my greening trees and hedges. A layer of clouds mutes the rising sun, but I do not expect rain. It hasn’t rained for days, and warmer-than-average temperatures have led me to the garden while it is still early.

My plants need water.

So, while the birds are still louder than the sound of cars on the nearby road, I take down the hose and water.

As I drag the hose along the garden, watering the garlic, the non-emergent beets, the raspberry and fig, the flow of water slows until finally, right as I am at my sugar snaps, the water stops completely.

I do not panic or fret. The world is not out of water. The city has not cut off my water supply. An angry God has not thwarted my plans. I look back along my garden and see where the hose has folded over on itself, kinked. The knot is not allowing the ever-present water to flow.

I shake the hose because sometimes the problem is fixed that easily. But the kink is too tight, the tangle too pressed for such an easy fix. I need to put down my nozzle and seek out the problem. I walk to the knot and gently unkink the hose, laying it in a line along the yard, allowing the water to flow freely once again.

Only then do I return to the spray nozzle, lift the hose, and send the life-giving water to the sugar snaps.

So, when you are offering your gift at the altar. If you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister. And then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

Get the kink out and then the water will flow.

I often don’t think of prayer that way. Sometimes, I talk; He does what He wants. Perhaps I should think of prayer in the same way I think about watering my garden. Life-giving water is available. It can flow through me to encourage the world, or it can be bottled up and clogged by my selfish thoughts and actions. I can twist myself into knots, I can let relationships remain broken, I can hold onto resentments. I can refuse to make amends when I have offended someone. I can block the flow of water.

So often, when the water ceases to flow, when I no longer sense the presence of God, I begin to panic and fret. God may not be real. God is angry with me and has turned away from me. God is refusing to supply His life-giving presence.

Perhaps I need to set down my spray nozzle, leave my offering on the altar, seek out the problem, and rectify it. Am I letting a particular sin knot my life? Does my brother or sister have something against me? Has a habit or thought twisted my relationship with God?

You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures. James 4:3

God wants to free us from the kinks that knot our lives. Abundant life awaits when the water flows freely, abundant growth, abundant fruit. So, if the water is not flowing today, I will take a moment and ask God to remind me what my brother has against me, to show me the knot in my life. With God’s help, I will unkink the hose and let the water flow freely once again.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Something to Cling to

The forecasted rain has yet to arrive, so I head to the garden to water my emerging plants. The garlic thrives, the beets have yet to emerge, but this morning I am drawn to the sugar snaps. Their fragile tendrils reach into the air in search of something solid. Once found, they wrap themselves around the bars of the supports and hold on as if their life depends on it. Once secure on one rung, the plants grow ever upward.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Easter traditions of a meal with family? New Spring clothes to herald warmer weather? The laughter of little children discovering eggs filled with treats? What does Easter mean to you?

The Church offers many ways to observe Holy week – The waving of branches and singing of Hosanna; Holy communion in remembrance of the last supper, Passion plays and the stripping of the church, gatherings in the garden, sunrise services, and exuberant Easter celebrations. The known world was changed forever by the actions of this small group of people in a remote backwater. Because they clung to the eternal support shown to them on Easter morning. Jesus the Christ rose from the dead.

There are lots of big words and complex theologies about the why and the how, about who Jesus was and is, about God’s nature and divine will and the Word. We want to understand that which is so much more complicated and complex and powerful than we are. But perhaps faith is best expressed in a story.

The story of a man who claimed to be the Son of God and was put to death for it. And on the third day, on that non-descript Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, proving that his claims were true.

That is what we can cling to. God did something amazing, unbelievable even. But it happened.

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with he scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, although some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 1 Corinthians 15:3-7.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

We are about to commemorate the beauty of the last supper, Jesus’ obedience in Gethsemane, the horrors of the crucifixion, the despair at his death. It can be tempting to live in that space, to cling to his suffering and his humanity. When we are suffering, it helps to know he suffered as well, even more so than we suffer now. We remember him washing Judas’ feet, dining with him, offering him bread and wine, and know he offers this to us sinners as well.

We can absorb the horrors of Holy Week because we cling to the truth of Easter Sunday.

The wind has been gusty for days now. An outdoor picnic led to plates blown off the table and toys blown across the yard. We were clipping the tablecloth to the table and weighting the boxes of egg dye.

The sugar snaps were unaffected by the wind gusts. They held firm, clinging to the truth of the trellises offered to them.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Gray and Chilly

In the warm weather that brightened our spirits last week, my sugar snaps pushed through the soil and rejoiced with me. But Sunday, I covered them with the protective gauze that keeps them warm and lets in sunlight. A forty degree drop in temperatures would challenge these young plants. I would do what I could to lessen the shock.

This is what March is all about in Tennessee. 75 degrees one day, 35 degrees the next. I would like to say that such weather changes don’t affect me. Unlike my sugar snaps, I live in a climate-controlled space with many resources to protect me from the wintery weather. But the truth is this gray and chilly day has me feeling, well, gray and chilly.

Intellectually I know that such feelings can only affect me if I let them. I am not a sugar snap plant blown by the wind and left to the elements. In my core, I am a child of God, beloved and adopted, chosen to live in a royal priesthood. But today, I am a whiney old widow whose joints hurt.

Usually, when I am feeling gray like this, I wander outside and listen to the creek and the birds. I feel the wind and the sun on my face and stick my hands in the dark, wet soil. But it’s 35 degrees outside and I want to stay inside.

Because I lost three trees to the ice storm in January, I decided to plant two new ones. Not hackberries like the ones I lost, but fig trees. I have a dwarf fig in my garden, but I am planting the not-dwarf kind of fig tree in my yard. They arrived Saturday when it was warm. The temptation was to plant them right away, but I am observing Saturday sabbath for Lent, so I let them sit inside.

Today, I am grateful that these young plants are not exposed to the chilly weather yet. I sense a little providence in their protection. And today, their healthy green leaves and promises of future beauty, shade, and fruit are lifting my spirits.

Even when it is gray and chilly, even when my emotions urge me to curl up on the couch, a young plant reminds me of what opportunities lie ahead – opportunities for warmth, for growth, for bearing fruit. No matter my mood, God gives me the opportunity to care for others, to exhibit joy and love, and to bear fruit for His Kingdom.

It may not look like much right now, but these sugar snaps will grow tall and these small fig plants will become trees. The chill will pass; the sun will burst through the clouds and warm the ground. A little providence and faith will see me through the gray days into His light.

And not only that but we can also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Warmer days are ahead.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Pruning

Most of the fallen limbs are gone and only one downed tree remains to dismantle, a task for those with chainsaws. Now I need to tend to my house plants.

While most survived the four frigid days without heat, one of them suffered considerable damage. It lived closer to the window, closer to the cold. As a side note, the Christmas Cactus seemed to love the cooler temps!

I am grateful that I did not attend this plant immediately when it was all dead and brown. I thought I would have to dispose of it. But in the weeks since power was restored, new green leaves have appeared. A white blossom has even presented itself. “I’m not dead yet!”

So, I got out my scissors and pruned off all the dead leaves and brittle stems. What is left is small but healthy.

It seems an apt practice for Lent. That is what we are called to do in our lives. Cut away all the dead waste, the useless pursuits, the brittle branches. Leave the healthy, holy part of lives to grow unfettered by dead-end activities.

Let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race set before us. Hebrews 12:1b.

And now that the dead leaves are gone, the healthy green leaves shine. They are what I see when I look at my plant. Not brown, wilted leaves and brittle stems, but healthy, vibrant growth. Isn’t that what we what others to see in us? Not our decaying, worthless activity, but the beauty of a healthy and holy life, love, and growth?

It just took getting rid of the other stuff.

The old leaves weren’t “bad.” They had brought beauty to my home for years. But things had changed and they were no longer the source of joy they had once been. In a sense, they were reminders of what once had been but was not now.

Am I cluttering my life with reminders of what once was? Not just my home, but my mind? I am slow to give up those things that were once precious to the people who were precious to me. Not that I care about Royal Dalton figurines, but my mother did. Not that I love antlers and deer heads, but Nick did. And those toys my children loved? I still have them.

I think it is okay for mementos from the past to occupy some physical space. But my mental space needs to be filled with God and His desires for today, not cluttered with joys and regrets from the past. I need to prune back the brown and brittle leaves and let the healthy new growth shine.

It may not look like much. At least right now. But God has taught me that when I strip away all the excess, dead stuff, the living, vital things grow.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. John 15:1-2.

And that is what I want to do – bear fruit for God’s kingdom, bear the Holy Spirit’s fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, and Christ-like living. (Galatians 5:22)

I pray that each of us lets God guide us in the pruning of our lives.

Love in Christ, Betsy