The term “green thumb” does not apply to me. Many plants that were “impossible to kill” have died on my watch. I love plants. The idea of planting something new and watching it grow is exciting to me. But so often they seem to die. I have pruned some which seems to help. I have pulled more than I would like to admit. I cannot leave my garden unattended for long. Weeds grow everywhere. Old plants I pulled up and thought were long gone have suddenly begin to grow again around my new ones. It is a never ending job.
I often look at my neighbors perfectly manicured garden and wish mine would look the same. It falls short. It seems like no matter how hard I try, how much I google, how many plant experts I talk to, my garden, by comparison, falls short.
They key phrase is “by comparison.” Comparison is a thief. It steals joy. The truth is my garden has come a long way. Last spring my husband and I pulled the whole thing up and started over. Compared to what was, My garden is beautiful. But even though I thought I pulled all the old plants up, they still seem to resurface. Sometimes the new plants start to show signs of death. I cut those parts off, water the plants, and sometimes have to add new soil. I have to tend to my garden.
What is growing in your garden? Have you checked it lately? Are any past hurts, insecurities, or wounds resurfacing in how you react and handle new situations? Have you tended to it, pruned it, or just pulled up the dead things?
I had noticed lately that I had become somewhat irritable. I had become easily offended. I distanced myself, and often times remained silent. I had not spent the time I used to in the Word. Life and all of its distractions had taken root in my garden. When opportunities to become offended or irritated surfaced, I took the bait. I was becoming ineffective. The old things resurfaced because the roots are still very much alive. Only God can pull them, and I have to let Him.
A few days ago I was looking at my plants. I have two potted plants on my culverts that were struggling. My husband suggested throwing them out and starting over. I replied, “No, there is still life there. They just need to be pruned.” As I begin cutting away the dead, I saw all the green below. As He so often does, the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart. There is still life there. I’m not finished with you yet. You just need to be pruned. Will you let me prune you?
In order to move forward with new birth we have to let go of the old. It isn’t enough to deal with the old on the surface; we have to get to the root of the matter. This takes time. We may think we got it all out, and then a sprout rears its head. We pull that, and it happens again. If left unattended, it will take over that area where new growth has already begun. We have to deal with the root. God wants and needs us to deal with the root of the matter.
No matter what happened in the past, or how painful it may be, let Him prune your garden. Let Him make room for new growth. He is not finished with you yet.
Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. John 15:2-6

