It’s Pruning Season

Believers B3ar Fruit...

Work-life balance… I swear I don’t even know what that means these days. Schoolwork has been piling up and, while I’m definitely grateful for the blessing of seminary, the to-do list is never-ending.

A few nights ago, I was wrestling to control my frustration. I was so angry with the way things in my life have been turning out. Finances, physical sickness, scholastic endeavors (my fancy way of saying homework), and hardships had transformed my quiet times into a list of grievances. See the first two chapters of Habakkuk for my state of mind. But as I was wrestling… and I mean The Rock vs. Undertake “people’s elbow” wrestling (because the WWE is real…) I was hit with the fact that I was trying to make God serve me.

In the midst of hardship, I quietly (i.e. yelled) told myself “You were made to serve God…”. It’s been a difficult six months and change. Thankfully, God’s graced me with friends who call me out on my childishness. One of my best friends tee’d off on me yesterday with the resounding question: “Name a saint who hasn’t had to go through hardships… Christ promised it. Paul promised it. Peter promised it… name one saint who didn't suffer…”

So what happens in the meantime? While we’re waiting on God to change things what do we do? I’ve only got a piece of the picture but here it is: we bear fruit. God hasn’t changed just because our circumstances have. His glory is not dictated by what we go through. Our allegiance to him is not predicated on things going according to our plan. He prunes branches to bear more fruit. Bearing fruit means suffering well. Bearing fruit means worshiping the sovereignty of the creator. Bearing fruit means laboring through pain and hardship.

At any rate, I’m off to try and get back in the vineyard. Be encouraged: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Will is a word of certainty and Christ’s disciples did have troubles and suffering… In all honesty, I think it comes down to the question of where does your comfort lie?

Here’s a poem I prayed a few nights ago:

Aces and jacks

Plummet, tumbling softly

As autumn breezes dislodge

Carefully constructed structures

Queens soon pursue kings,

Falling headlong into the blazing pile.

I had made my bed besides

Diamonds and spades

Only to watch gravity bully them,

Tying shoestrings together,

Stomping their hearts into the dirt,

Spraying graffiti on clubhouse walls.

Rest in peace,

My home: the broken remains of a royal flush

Those who trust in Christ will never be put to shame...