Pruning

     I am not a gardener. I have no interest in sponsoring a vegetable and flower buffet for the dozens of deer in our neighborhood. I'm not even a yard person, although I occasionally remember to water the lawn, usually about the time Reed comes home from work and asks me about it. Reed is the one who perpetuates the vicious watering/mowing cycle. The one yard task I like to do is pruning. I like to bring order out of chaos, to smooth the tangled branches of the two apple trees we inherited when we bought our house from people who actually cared about landscaping.
     I even took a pruning seminar at a local nursery, and not just for the free cookies. I found out that pruning 101 is very simple. Branches should be pruned if they are blocking the sun from reaching the fruit, sapping the energy of the more productive branches, or are simply in the way of the lawn mower. For some reason I always feel compelled to explain to the branches why I am removing them, as if I owe them an apology. That is one of the many differences between me and God. When God prunes our lives, He does not feel compelled to explain why.
     Pruning is painful, but it is not punitive. I am not punishing the branches for being in the way, or the tree for having too many branches. I am simply trying to make it less burdened and more productive. So is God. He prunes out the things that get in the way of the work He is trying to accomplish through our lives, the distractions that are sapping our energy, and any entanglement that blocks our view of the Son. If I, who have not mastered even the first elements of gardening, can prune a tree and make it more productive, what will happen if I trust my Master, who created the very first garden, to prune me?