I hated to do it. It was beautiful, and it provided wonderful shade. The problem was that  the majority of this limb was lying on my patio roof, which, in a nutshell, was a fire hazard, so it had to go.

My initial reaction was one of sadness. Such a big beautiful limb gone, but then I began to notice some benefits, primarily more light for the plants growing on the lattice. 

I need to remind myself about these truths when God is cutting certain things out of my life that I think are so beautiful. They might seem nice to me, but perhaps they are dangerous or obstructive, and I am either oblivious to that or just choose to ignore it. 

John 15:1-2 reminds us that God is in the cutting and pruning business, that He cuts out the dangerous or nonproductive and prunes the branches that are producing fruit so that they might produce even more fruit. 

“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.”

Though that limb is missing, my tree is thriving. The others branches are growing more skyward and the ground plants are filling out, and do you want to know the bottom line?

That branch was never really necessary for shade or beauty as most of it was lying on my roof. May I remember that when I find God cutting out things around me and in me.  

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I was also mystified. Plants that were definitely suited for my zone were dying, and I didn’t know why? Not enough water? Too much water? In my mind water was the only answer. But when I went to the nursery and checked with the gardener . . . guess what? I learned something.

First, I learned that even though the plants were definitely suited for our hot climate, they arrived from nurseries in the Bay Area, a much cooler climate. To buy one and immediately plant it puts the poor thing into shock.

Take it home, I was advised, and let it sit in a tub of water outside for a couple of days and get used to its new environment and heat. Then plant it and give it some Vitamin B-1 which will keep it from going into shock. Then, in a week’s time begin fertilizing, but only if the temperature is under 100.

I didn’t just want my plants to survive, I wanted them to thrive and be beautiful and healthy, so, I have followed the gardener’s directions, and, so far, so good.

Of course, I could see the spiritual implications. God doesn’t want us just to survive—He wants us to thrive. He said so in John 10:10 when Jesus said,  “I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance.” (AMP) A life overflowing with blessings, like the flowers in the picture.

And though we may not see the process, we can be assured that as the Master Gardener, he doesn’t just plant us and leave us. He always prepares the soil ahead of time; He always provides a time of acclimation followed by encouragement and support and His constant presence. 

BUT . . . I wasn’t wrong about the water. All the fertilizer and vitamins and attention would be useless without water. Water is the source of life. And for us, Jesus is the living water (John 4:10).

So enjoy where you are planted knowing that this particular place has been prepared for you in advance and that the Master Gardener is right beside you giving you exactly what you need when you need it. And don’t forget to DRINK UP!

If you have never heard Casting Crowns song “Thrive,” I have attached it for your enjoyment.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord . . . Colossians 3:23

I understood the words, believed them, and committed myself to following them. But this was before I was hungry or had hit a golf ball that day.

Last week I saw the application in the things I didn’t want to do. The things I found tedious. Uninteresting. And vowed to serve and honor God by doing those duties joyfully—with all my heart as though doing them for the Lord. 

This week, however, the words came at me from a different angle and hit me hard in two areas I love—eating and golfing.

It’s easy to commit both to the Lord first thing in the morning—to eat sensibly and to honor God with my attitude on the course. But as the day progresses . . . well  . . . let’s just say it gets a bit tougher.

When I get hungry, I want to satisfy that hunger immediately and with the quickest, best tasting options available—which usually are not healthy choices. And even if there are healthy choices available, my hunger steers me toward what I perceive as the more satisfying.

On the course, if all is going well, my attitude can be God honoring, but when the swing goes off, the luck turns bad, and the number of shots it takes to get in the hole increases exponentially, well . . . it’s not pretty . . . and definitely not God honoring.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord . . .

Last week, “as working for the Lord” provided motivation for doing the undesirable, the intrusive. This week that same phrase challenged my motivation. Why was I doing what I was doing? And it turns out that neither of my top two reasons had anything to do with glorifying God.

The first was for my own personal satisfaction—feeling good about how I looked and felt and getting more proficient at my hobby. The second, I hate to admit, was for others, hoping they would notice my ability to maintain a healthy weight and to hit an impressive golf score. With those two reasons as my focus, falling short in either area only produced discouragement and frustration because there was pressure in performing well.

When Matthew 6:19-21 talked about storing up treasures in heaven rather than on earth it’s because anything tethered to the earth (weight, golf scores, and public validation) can fluctuate moment by moment and will have no lasting importance. But how we honor God will. Our attitude trumps ability every time.

I need a reset button so that when my focus starts drifting toward the things of this world, I can push that button, reground myself, and remember a second verse that reiterates what Colossians 3:23 said.

“. . . whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” I Corinthians 10:31

I love to write. I have all these characters in my head just dying to have their stories told. 

The story creation and character development are my favorite parts of the process. This is where I use large brush strokes and choose the dominant colors. The picture begins to emerge and shapes are noticeable. 

Then comes the editing—the checking of facts, consistency, clarity, word choice. This step is where I take the fine brush and start to give more definition to the characters, apply shading, deepen the colors, and sharpen the hues. I enjoy this part because this is how the story gets stronger, bolder, sharper. 

But I hate. Absolutely HATE—Proofreading. Proofreading is focusing on the minutia— surface-level errors: spelling, grammar punctuation. It’s like looking for that one dab of misplaced paint. It is tedious. It is mind numbing. But it is necessary. It could mar the entire work.

All of life is like that. The big fun things that we can’t wait to do bumping right up next to the boring, the dreary, the uninteresting. The trip to Scotland followed by cleaning the bathrooms. We don’t want to do the mundane, the uninspiring, the hard.

In Paul’s letter to the Colossians, he addresses this tendency to want to skirt the hard stuff in chapter 3 when he addresses Christian households: wives, husbands, fathers, slaves.

He doesn’t instruct them on taking vacations, or going on picnics, or enjoying one’s free time. That part’s fun. No . . . instead . . . he addresses the tough stuff: submitting; loving; obeying.

Then he follows these commands with the all-encompassing directive in verse 3 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.” (emphasis mine)

No matter where we are in life—what job we have for whatever boss and coworkers we might have. Whatever role we are currently required to fill within our family, our community, or our church. We are to embrace every part of it—the parts we like and the parts we don’t—in the same way — with all our heart, and as for the Lord.

Since He has giving us His all, His best, His one and only son, He deserves only our best, and His opinion and favor are the only ones we should be concerned about

The United States has always had a complicated relationship with its motherland—Great Britain.

While we celebrate our British lineage through town and state names, our legal system, and much of our government structure, we made it a point to distinguish ourselves as well—from how we write the date (Month/Day/Year was first used on the Declaration of Independence) to which side of the road we drive on.

We have been very intentional in creating an American culture and way of life. Which was why I was surprised when roundabouts began showing up in my town. I thought American cities lived and breathed the traffic lights, and small towns took pride in their first stop sign. However, we now have three—count them—three roundabouts in town, and two have been built correctly—with a raised center island.

This raised center has a two-fold purpose: to be more visible to approaching drivers, but also to slow drivers down. If the island wasn’t there, then drivers could cut across. If the island wasn’t raised, then drivers could look ahead, judge the oncoming traffic, and not adequately reduce their speed. The raised island forces drivers to slow down and look only to his or her left — no more — and then move.

God, in His infinite wisdom has given us spiritual roundabouts. When something looms ahead of us, we are forced to slow down and approach with our full attention on what is most immediate, but we are not allowed to look across to the future. 

If we could look ahead and see all that was entering the roundabout, we might get discouraged and miss our window of opportunity and blessing.

The unknown is always a bit scary but as Holocaust survivor Corrie Ten Boom said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”