When Cutting Means Living

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." 
John 15:1,2

We have fruit trees here at our new house.  Several of them.  Spring came and whispered to waken them, but still they sleep.  A few blossoms roused, but mostly, they remained covered in lichen and  tangled in hungry vines.  I had held out hope that perhaps, because of their age, they'd surprise us with a bumper crop. 

But when the blossoms were few, I knew the truth.  There wouldn't be any fruit.

There were dead limbs.  Lots of them.  Some more obvious than others.  Some with crunchy grey-green lichen growing on their rotting flesh.  Others with honeysuckle and poison ivy vines choking them in their effort to grow heavenward.  And when he said they'd all have to come down, I argued with my husband--surely some of them were alive?  But even to knock knuckles against them revealed what I didn't want to accept.  The sound was hollow.  Lifeless.

And I can't help but think that perhaps when others see me, they see dead limbs too.

Limbs that no longer bear fruit.  Limbs no longer drinking from the vine.  Limbs that offer no fragrant flowers, no lush leaves, no fruit.

I stood, that day he said they'd need to come down, determined to keep them, determined to leave them be and let them have a chance.  I stood between those trees and my husband, the tree-gardener in our family.

And I can't help but think that perhaps I stand between myself and the true Gardener.

I wonder about this Gardener that severs branches and limbs, takes the lifeless to give life in the future.  I wonder about His ways.  His economy.  His methods. Taking the life of lambs and pigeons to free heart-life of repentant people so long ago. Taking the life of His Son to give life to mankind.

Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.
John 12:24

Seeds that die and produce many.
Joseph severed from his family and he saves nations, the entire Hebrew race.

Could it actually be that had Joseph remained in the comfort of his father's favor, he would not have born fruit?  Could it be that my clinging to languishing limbs is preventing me from producing fruit?

And what of me and my dead limbs?  What of the limbs that no longer bear fruit?  Do I really want to see them?  Do I really want to know what they are?  Would I really let that Gardener come in with his saw and make the cuts?

Come to me, ye who are weary . . .

Holding lifeless limbs can become wearisome.

ye who are heavy laden . . .

Lifting dead weight can drain a soul.

and I will give you rest . . .

The rest comes in the releasing.

Sometimes the releasing comes in stepping down as the guard of lichen covered limbs.
Sometimes the releasing means letting Him make the cuts.
Sometimes the releasing is goodbye to our plans.  Our ambitions.  Our ideas.  Our pride.
And I have much of that.  Pride.

And sometimes the cutting off leaves a gaping hole for a season. 

Sorrow may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Maybe I have some holes right now.  Some that are gaping.  I'm waiting for the joy that comes in the morning.  For that sweet sun to rise and whisper the Gardener's song, the song of making all things new, the song of healing, the song of hope, the song that promises fruit.

Fruit that will last.

The Joy List

As the new year falls gently like snow into our lives without slowing or hastening to fit our timetable I am left considering the reality that ready or not the second semester of schooling has arrived, the dawn of a new decade is here and the winter though frigid now will soon give way to spring. Time. We can't stop it, can't argue it out of reality, can't slow it down, and try as we might, we cannot obtain one iota more. January not only ushers in 2010. For me, it also marks the second anniversary of my homeschooling trek and so while many think long and hard as the autumn begins about where they are headed and how things are going, I find myself most intensely considering those things as I wrap in flannelly Kleenex my cranberry Christmas balls and tuck the mistletoe back into Rubbermaid bins for yet another year. Two years doesn't sound like a very long time, but I feel like I've always educated my boys at home and though I'm no veteran, I have a sense of having done this a while now. Perhaps that is because I started preparing for it 7 years ago when Nathan was only 3. Or maybe it is because the educating of my little men really began when they were snuggled cozily inside my tummy and I read to my protruding belly button and continued when they were infants and I read classics to them even then. Regardless, here I am--contemplating, considering. How is it going? Are we enjoying our journey? Have I stayed my original course? Is God directing our learning? Am I stuck in any ruts? What have I learned works well? What have I learned causes us more grief than joy? And speaking of joy--is the spirit of our school day one of joy and discovery, even awe at all God has poured into our world? In fact, it is the question of joy that, like a strobe light, flashes into my mind and heart repeatedly. Jesus did come after all so that joy might be completed in our lives. How am I, as my children's primary caregiver and teacher doing at opening the windows of my their sweet souls so that the joy of Christ can waft in like the robin's song in spring? And it is on this particular mountain--that of allowing the joy of the Lord to scent every area of our lives--that I do believe I will spend my time this year. Not that joy is something I can personally achieve; it's a fruit of the spirit after all. Scripture also insists that joy comes from following the precepts of God and that it is something we experience while in God's presence. Given those truths I am forced to examine what things just might cause me to abandon the precepts of God, to miss out on the presence of God in my life. Here are a list of a few things that the Holy Spirit has been showing me. Maybe you can relate? 1. Fear of man. It's not words of the four lettered category with which I struggle, it is just one little two letter word that seems to haunt me. Ever struggle to say NO because you are afraid of what someone will think? I can think of at least one commitment I have presently that should NOT be on my plate and yet I couldn't say the two letter word. Seems so simple here. no. NO. NO! Ultimately that stems from a fear of man and God's word is rather clear that the "fear of man brings a snare." Whether it's struggling to say no, trying to keep up with the Jones family next door, or fretting and worrying over what the rest of the world will think about your children when all is said and done, all of these things stem from an ultimate fear of man. I won't lie and pretend I don't struggle with this. I do. But this year I want to spend more time considering the thoughts my Father has towards me and less considering those of others. His are, after all, so much more pleasing to my soul. (Isaiah 51:11-13) 2. Over Scheduling. Not saying no is the precursor to the reality that most of us are convinced we have more time in each day than we really do. In fact most of us rather stubbornly persist with over scheduling our lives to the point that we are left completely unable to be still when we do in fact have a quiet evening. Before committing or renewing commitments this year for both my children and myself I am going to ask one question--can I maintain my location in the presence of God and be involved in this activity? Realistically as mothers whether we educate our children at home or work full time there simply will not be a great deal of wiggle room in our schedules if we plan to do our very best at the first stewardships God gave us--God Himself, our spouse if we are married, and our children. I have never met a pastor who told me to slow down, and I've never had someone say to me, "Sarah, you'd be great on this committee, but since you are in the mothering phase of life, I think perhaps someone else should do it." People will ask and take and request until the rapture. We have to learn to discern how much is enough. And then we must fearlessly stand our ground. Adam and Eve did not have blackberries...well, at least not the electronic kind. If the Garden of Eden was God's perfect plan for humankind then we might do well to attempt to mimic it whenever possible. (Well, not so much the naked part...at least not in public :-) 3. Daily. Joy is kind of like manna. The Israelites had to gather it daily. And since I mentioned Adam and Eve, one habit they had was walking with God in the cool of the evening. Sort of a daily kind of activity. If life is too full to get into God's Word regularly, then in reality, it won't be long before life is empty. Joy is a fruit and if it is removed from the vine it will spoil quickly. I need to be in God's word regularly. That can be SO hard for mothers who tend to give, give, give. It can be hard for all of us because frankly, we live in a world where distractions are as plentiful as the dust in my husbands workshop. We won't go too long without food, but sometimes we'll go days, weeks, even months without spiritual food. 4. Keeping my eyes on Jesus. It's tricky. The whole mothering, parenting, wifing, teaching side of things can be a sort of tight rope act. We as women are so relational--we want to interact and discuss and mull over every aspect of our lives with someone. And though I do love talking to God, a chat over tea with a sister face to face can be SO gratifying. But here's the thing about those conversations--they need to point us to Jesus and His heart for our families. If those conversations leave us wanting to be more like another individual or comparing ourselves to another, then they were futile and will suck the joy out of our home quicker than a hoover vacuum. God doesn't do templates. Our families are not cookie cutter images of Leave it to Beaver or Married with Children for that matter. They are unique reflections of our heavenly Father's vast creativity. 5. Computer. SHUT DOWN. Yeah. I know. That's a hard one when you are home all day long or even when you are at work--the little ding indicating email is awaiting is like a shot of espresso. Woo Hoo! Something of interest besides 2 + 2 = 4 and E=MC (how do you make the squared symbol on the computer?) I love to post my status on facebook--it's how I stay connected to my sisters and my extended family in the states and in Canada. Photos have always been a passion of mine and posting them regularly keeps Nannie and Poppa in Ontario daily involved in my boys' lives. That's a gift I give them because I can't imagine how hard it would be to have my children live far away. BUT...realistically, I don't need to spend more than five or ten minutes MAX a day doing those things. Really. Do I want my relationships to be completely virtual? The thing about email and facebook and all those other sites is that they remove part of our attention. We think we are multi-tasking--teaching the kids, paying the bills online, talking on the phone, but who are we kidding? This year my computer will be off more. I can post my status, upload my new photos and pay my bills in ten minutes flat and then, unless we need it for school, I can turn my little old HP off. Sorry Hewlett! 6. Plan. I did this already and WOW! I took about two days and literally planned every single day for the rest of the year. It is NOT selfish to take time for planning. I am the kind of person who loves being with my kids. While others scream for a break and complain that they are overwhelmed and must have "me time" in order to thrive, I adore every waking moment in the presence of my sweet boys. After a busy holiday season with loads of wonderful company I turned and looked at my husband and said, "All I want to do is play with the boys." It was very hard for me to take even more time to plan, but I knew God was calling me to get organized. So, I did take time to play and then I took time to plan. I always know where we're going and lay lessons out at least a week or more in advance, but to actually sit down and take the time to map out the remainder of our school year is the most freeing and liberating feeling. Some people might say, "Well, if I planned that far in advance I'd just end up changing everything." I understand. I'm not talking about carving the lesson plans in stone. What I'm talking about is getting a really solid game plan, a framework on which to stand, so that when hectic days and weeks come along I've got some solid footing and quick references to where we need to be. Take time to plan. You'll be better for it. 7. Space. Moving into our new home I have found myself wanting to fill it with less and leave more room for the air and light to flow freely. I think my life is that way too. I need to leave some wiggle room. I am creative and I like to "go with it" when the boys take an interest in something. In December, Corton decided he wanted to learn to carve. It wasn't in my plans. And frankly, I had no idea how to go about that, nor did I have any real interest in it myself. BUT...he WAS interested. Hello? This isn't rocket science! This is why I home school. This is the beauty of homeschooling. When they say, "Mom, I want to learn to carve." We say, "Sounds great! Let's see what resources we can come up with as soon as possible." And that's what we did. The neat thing is that he carved three different Christmas presents, the most special of which was a beautiful fireman's boot for Jeff. Now he is saying that after he retires from his football career he will probably want to become a "whittler." Plan, yes. But leave gaps--leave breathing room for the things that capture the hearts of your children. And if nothing captures for a month or two, then use that wiggle room to jump on the trampoline or read a great novel that is entirely unrelated to anything else you are learning, or to just paint for painting's sake. Wiggle room is to your family experience like grace is to your spiritual experience. 8. Play We don't get tomorrow. We don't even get the promise of another minute. We have now. And our precious children will not take with them what we intended to do but never got around to. And our spouses, whom we promised to cherish deserve so much more than the mundane day to day responsibilities most of us share. We get so wrapped up in remembering to pay the mortgage, cut the grass and to pick up a gallon of milk that we forget to have fun. I am going to have fun on purpose. And I'm going to check it off my to do list every single week. Sounds cheesy, I know. But I want my kids to look back on these years and remember them as full of laughter, full of giggling, and full of fun. How it must grieve the heart of God when we forget to smile and share our smiles with the very people who live nearest us! If there's no time for fun, then I better revisit number 1 and 2 on my list this year. There are more, but for now these are the things I'd like to share with each of you. Maybe your list is different or maybe it is identical. Tomorrow I begin a new year, a new chapter, a fresh start. It's not that I was looking for a fresh start or even that things were in horrible disarray in 2009. On the contrary, for the most part, the kids and I are having a blast. But still, in the quiet of the evening God has pressed these things on my heart and I'm listening. What good am I as a mother if I ignore the voice of my heavenly Father? I'll leave you with the words of Jesus when he said, "These things I have told you so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full." (John 15:11) We're half way through this academic year and I know many of you are like me in that you want to do so many things. Marthas. And yet it was Mary who chose the most excellent thing--the presence of Jesus. It is there, in the living waters of the heart of Jesus that we take in incredible fullness of joy and it is the joy of the Lord that will be our strength as we continue to mother our children and love our families. Be encouraged, my friends, in the truth that for every moment you persevere, for every whispered prayer, for every trying day, you are laying up treasure in heaven. And even more important, you are laying foundations on earth in the heart of your children. Fullness of joy. Complete joy. May it be yours in 2010. Amen.

When Runaways Remain

Around 25 years ago my sister and I became unhappy with how things were taking in shape in our family. Hidden behind a ridge in the mountains of northern Georgia our hand-crafted cabin bulged with three wild-haired big eyed hippie's daughters. (Later there were five girls, but not then) Our feet tended to be bare and we flowed inside and out with little concern for societal norms. We were raised to love Jesus and the land He painted at creation and for some reason two of us had become disgruntled with what I now realize was a beautiful childhood. It was agreed upon that one of us should run away. Now my sister will tell you that though two years my senior she often shared her ideas with me and then encouraged me to act on them. I don't remember there ever being a discussion as to who was going to do the running, but you can probably guess it was me that ended up packing my bags. Early one morning before the sounds of my mother awoke us we whispered our goodbyes. Before leaving, I boldly climbed onto the counter and helped myself to an unopened box of cereal--a BIG No No. Then I made my way as quietly as possible around the wild cherry tree and down a small slope to the back of the house where the crawl space had an opening. For whatever reason, I felt this was as good a place as any to run away to and so it was there I stayed--a disgruntled, disappointed and frustrated runaway. In the end I think we actually had to tell my mom I had run away. They never even noticed my absence. That may have had a good deal to do with the fact that I didn't manage to stay gone very long. This morning as I was reading in John 15 my memory was washed with the pictures of that childhood story. Verse nine of John 15 says, "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love..." Eleven times in the first ten verses Jesus speaks the word remain. Remain. The word is well translated as in the Greek it means simply to stay, to remain, to abide or consider Eugene Peterson's translation: "I've loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love." (John 15:9) When you know the depths of someones love you never want to leave. But when the love of those who care for you is called into question then it is human nature to run. If we run then at least we aren't present for the pain of disappointment. Obviously as a little girl I had become disappointed with something happening in our house and I questioned the rightness, the fairness, and the love of my parents. (I had probably been asked to do some unreasonable thing like feed the dogs or fold laundry :-) But my sister and I both felt the best situation was to jump ship, to run. The thought of staying and persevering through something didn't weigh enough to stand a chance against the idea of running. Two and a half decades later I find people still tend to run when things get rough. Some are like me--they don't run that far. The fight they had with their husband just sends them running to call their friend. The frustrations with their children just drive them to the computer. The stress at work sends them for a little retail therapy. The disappointment with themselves sends them to the freezer for the entire container of Moose Tracks. I've been there--literally. Sometimes they run farther though--they leave their marriage. They never speak to their relative again after the last fight. They quit their job and hunt for another one. Sometimes running doesn't seem like running, it seems like a logical solution to avoid a messy conflict. But when we run from God we run from our very source of life and over time the light in our life will flicker and burn out. It may take years, but mark my words it will happen. I've seen it. I've lived it. The two children who lost their mom, the hard working family man who lost two jobs in one year, the family who lost their home, the woman who lost her chance at love all have one thing in common--the choice to remain or run. They're real live people like you and like me and they face insurmountable-how in the world could a good God allow this-it's not fair-it hurts so hard I can't breath-circumstances. They face the gritty questions in life to which there are no good answers and they're hurt, they're disappointed, they're angry, they're frustrated and they're desperate. You better believe they're gonna be tempted to run. The challenges I face seem insignificant compared to those of so many others but still I find myself tempted to throw in the towel too from time to time. I am comforted by the truth that Jesus loves me with the same incredible love that God poured on Him as He faced the gruesome reality of death by crucifixion. What a life changing truth it is when He says to us I love you with that same exact love and I want you to "live in" my love. When you know that you know that you know that you are loved without question you feel so safe, so secure you never want to leave that kind of relationship. My husband has showed me what that kind of love feels like. In him I have found a love that has endured without hesitation or contingency and I've been able to take that picture and paste it on the heart of Jesus to better understand what He means when He says He loves me. To live in the love of God we have to believe in it. We have to stand on the truth of God's Word and declare to our doubting hearts, "My Father will NEVER leave, NEVER forsake, NEVER abandon, NEVER give up, NEVER release us, NEVER fail, NEVER falter. His love is permanent and it is mine." (Hebrews 13:5, Deut. 4:31, Ps. 138:8, Jude 1:24, Romans 8:39) No matter what we face, we face it shielded by the love of God. If we aren't living in God's love it's as if we are a soldier cowering. behind the largest, mightiest, strongest most impenetrable sword ever fashioned shaking and petrified because we can't see the shield. Just because we don't see it doesn't mean it's not there. We are shielded by the God who commands lightning bolts with a single breath. Jesus wasn't removed from the greatest trial known to mankind, He was loved through it and in that love He found the strength to carry out the most heroic mission of all time. Only after He made it through death did God raise Him to His right hand. Joseph didn't receive a 'become the pharoah's right hand-man' free pass. First he was loved through a pit, and prison terms and then he was lifted up into the position God had planned all along. What about Esther? God didn't just change her king's heart and spare her people, He loved her through the fear of risking her life to save her people. Trials are a reality of this life. Disappointment. Pain. They are the stories of the heroes of the faith. But they are only fleeting emotions in the lives of those warriors--the permanent backdrop for every single one of these stories is the guaranteed love of God. Without exception His love is our guarantee. I Cor. 13:13 says, "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." When we lose faith, and we will, when we give up hope, and we will, may we remember the greatest of all--the God whose very name is LOVE. In His love may we remain. Pray with me: Lord, Your name is love. Your love is so unfathomable. But I have to admit there are times when I want to scream why, God? Why do you allow pain into our lives? Why do you allow heart break? Why? And yet, Lord if you never answer the why's, won't you fill me with belief in the truth of your remaining love. God help me to live in that love. Help me to linger there, to stay, to put my suitcases down and grab hold of your love with all my might. Thank you, Father. Read with me: Jude 1:21 Listen with me: God loves you--Deborah Klassen