Pruning a tree

Do you know why trees get pruned?
Promise, there's a point to this. So hear me out....

Trees get pruned to...

• remove dead, damaged and diseased branches to help prevent insect & decay organisms from entering the tree.

• Remove co-dominant leaders. Co-dominant leaders are 2 branches growing near the top of a tree that grow straight up and become equally dominant. Cutting off one allows the other branch to grow & become the dominant branch. 

• stimulate growth in sparse areas of the tree.

For about a decade and a half I allowed a particular branch in my life to grow wildly and out of control. It was an area of my life that I thought could be maintained with my patience and love. So for a very long time I poured everything into that one branch. It was damaged and diseased, but I never lost hope. Slowly that one branch sucked out all the goodness that could have gone to other areas of my life.

Pruning does wound the tree. Trees don't actually ‘heal’ their wounds. A branch that has been cut off is permanently gone and nothing else grows there. What does happen is that the tree "seals" its wounds. Over time the tree creates some sort of callus around the wound and covers the initial cut. Inside the tree, some chemical boundary is formed around the wounded area which compartmentalizes it. This prevents decay. 

By the time I noticed how toxic that branch was, it was already sensitive and close to dying. It was the first branch of many and many good things came from it. If I tended to it, wouldn't it eventually just get better? "Eventually" became one year, then another, then another. Fourteen years later I was left with nothing but a tree that had stopped growing properly because the diseased branch was taking up too much. The issue wasn't about whether or not something should be done or what. It was when. I never had enough courage to place both feet firmly planted on the ground. Many times over I made the decision to just let it go, but I never could. 

I finally allowed God to be the one to prune me so it could be done properly. It hurt to have Him do it, and it still stings a lot. The cut was sharp, quick and final. I knew that nothing would ever grow there again which is probably why I held off of it for so long. It's unfortunate that I didn't let God have full control until things really started dying, but how else could a stubborn person like me learn? That branch might have been important in the beginning, but I realized how I had to start growing again. I need to grow. 

Just so, every good tree bears good fruit, and a rotten tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, not can a rotten tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. So by their fruits you will know them. -Matthew 7:17-20

To be honest, I don't know where God is leading me. However, I can be secure in the knowledge that regardless of the place, my feet are facing forward. Everything that has happened to me in the past two years have contained nothing but blessings upon blessings. The Lord has been outpouring His love for me in so many ways and that was while I carried the decaying branch. How much more growth can happen now that I've cut if off?

I'm trying to ask Mama Mary to show me how to be patient. I've been asking her to help me trust in Her Son the same way she did; to obey & to witness. She's had a very strong presence in my life the past two weeks and I can honestly say that this is the first time in twenty-four years I've really acknowledged her. She's done nothing but console me during this most vulnerable time of my life.

I've been allowing myself to be sensitive to the Spirit this past week and this is the message that kept coming up: Yes, healing hurts, but it doesn't have to be torturous. God's timing is so perfect and even throughout this whole ordeal He's allowed me to enjoy the process. He's allowed me to see far greater things than what I was accustomed to. I'm not at my best but my heart is confident because I have a future full of hope.

Lord, thank you for pruning that branch off for me. Now I can truly continue to BLOOM where you have planted me.

Words.

The rising and the falling,

the floating and the sinking,
of these carefully calculated and assembled letters called words.
An exchange; given and received.
It fills up the room seeping into every corner and crevice.

Words,
How easily you allow them to escape from you
The sweet melody and soft harmonies fall lightly like dewdrops
The heat lingers on my skin
Each syllable embracing my body and I feel its warmth.

Words,
How they fill the distance between us
Building bridges and passages,
A private highway from your mouth to my heart
Removing oceans, evaporating seas
And all you have to do is simply
...Speak.
I am filled to the brim, ripping at the seams because of you and your...

Words,
Hungry I ate, Thirsty I drank
Consuming every promise, every apology,
every declaration and excuse.
Every thought and idea you planted in my mind like seeds-
watered by my love and my every affection shone like the sun.
Your words grew,
They grew and they sprouted. They sprouted but never blossomed.
And I ask myself, Why?

Words,
The staleness in the air: recycled, reused, remastered.
They lie there cold, flat, and unmoving.
And I try to breathe life back into them
energies transferred, draining me without a moment’s notice.
Breathe.

How could I have survived on nothing but, words?
When yours came fat free with no sugar,
low on truth and half the respect
My reflection looking back- Thin. Frail. Fragile.
All because I fed on nothing but,
Words.
They come at no expense for you,
but they charge double to me-
investments high at the interest of my heart.
Sorry, no return policy. But, delivery? Sure that’s free.
No warning given, transactions are final.

Words,
While yours float like air, mine sink like gravity
Carrying the weight of the ache in my chest,
the pain in my eyes,
the struggle in my lungs.
Bringing us back down to reality:
That all you ever give me are words.
Which are nothing but carefully calculated letters
different combinations serving some sort of purpose;
Your happiness not mine.
I hear it, and the notes are flat. The chords are sharp.

The deafening noise of silence that exists from Point you to point me.

Now these....
These are words, but they are mine,

Though your satisfaction I cannot guarantee.

Words.
Mine may not build bridges and pathways, roads or tall towers,
But they uncover the dirt and rough surfaces-
The mess. The cracks. Imbalanced.
Imperfect but home grown and organic.
No frills, No cheap thrills.
       

You say what we are is priceless, but you just measured us in words
Which are nothing but carefully calculated letters, put together to sound better.

I have no need for words, for they limit and constrict
That which exists.....deep within me.

So I'll remain silent and timorous. Giving you back what's due. 

The Bare. The Bold. That which is anchored in truth:
That I am worth more than your words.