Posted by Hope on September 16, 2011 at 11:50 AM in Driven by Purpose, For Change, Growing with Hope, Life at its Best, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
There’s a beautiful tree that has provided me with an incredible amount of pleasure over the last few years. It stands outside my home office window. My desk is directly beneath that window.
This tree has withstood the trauma of recent 100 km/hr winds; it has beared up under the burden of incredible amounts of snow gathered in its boughs, has been home to various little creatures and has brought me much inspiration over the years.
This morning while sitting at my desk, I heard what sounded like a chain saw. I stood up and looked out my window to see a gardener with a truckload of equipment; his gaze was firmly cast upon this tree. Poor tree had no clue what was coming.
A professional horticulturalist doesn't hack away at a tree or plant just anywhere and he doesn't do it simply for esthetic reasons. Pruning is required to trim away deadwood, remove disease and tissues that inhibit healthy growth, and to control and direct growth by giving it shape.
Pruning is something that is part of life whether it is done by a gardener, by nature and the elements or by God Himself . It is, generally speaking, not a pleasant experience and the immediate after effects can leave the prunee looking and feeling rather stripped down and exposed.
The last few weeks have left me feeling rather stripped and exposed. Sometimes we go through life and stuff just starts to attach itself to us - once it does, the potential for growth is there. Everyone knows that a rotten tree doesn’t grow good fruit and who wants or needs rotten fruit? This time of pruning hasn’t been easy. I’ve been completely present and awake for this spiritual surgery. The things revealed to me haven’t been a complete surprise - let’s face it, when there’s a huge bump protruding from your noggin - you know it and the same goes for spiritual bumps. And so it seems that, at least for now, like my beloved tree, the Master Gardener has finished pruning me for this season. And again, like my tree, I am feeling somewhat worse for the wear. The wonderful thing is that I know in a few weeks or months from now, like that tree, I will be stronger than ever and more fruitful ... and isn’t that the whole point?
“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. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me” John 1:1-4.
Posted by Hope on August 20, 2011 at 07:36 PM in For Change, Growing with Hope, It is what it is ..., OY! Not this Again! | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
I’m not much of a gardener. I love gardens; I just don’t have the patience to wait for growth. I have a tendency to focus on the weeds growing while I’m waiting on the good stuff.
I have this mental picture of the “old” me – a garden of sorts – filled with briers and dandelions with the odd daisy pushing up here and there. I don’t know why I ever visit that garden, but I do.
The Greatest Landscaper of all creation has been weeding out my garden for several years now. You’d think a person who has a professional “gardener” come in would just stop fussing and just enjoy the scenery, but no … not me. Of course, I do appreciate the garden and I certainly see the work He’s done, but to tell you the truth, I seem to spend far too much time focussing of the little weeds that seem to sprout from time to time.
That old serpent loves nothing more than to scatter bad seed in our fertile minds and then sit back as hope that we’ll choose to get out the watering can. Every gardener will tell you weeds will grow. You can spend hours and hours lovingly caring for your garden, but the next morning – or maybe the following day - you’ll surely find a little sprout that doesn’t belong there. The enemy will always sow bad seed, and bad seed grows. But having a weed or two in your garden doesn’t mean your flowers won’t blossom or your plants won’t produce fruit.
God has worked so hard healing the soil and sowing; He seems to be happy with His work. Maybe I should just sit a spell - rest in Him - appreciate His work and let Him worry about what He plants.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 NIV.
Posted by Hope on November 02, 2009 at 06:46 PM in Awesome and Wonderful, Be Still and Know I Am, Growing with Hope | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
A parent’s love is sought by a child even if that love is withheld; it’s innate. Too many are the children who – now as adults – still pursue that love with diligence and perseverance. Such was my case. I don’t share this in order to seek sympathy – no. I have found a better love. I have found an unconditional love.
I cannot remember a time in my life when I wasn’t seeking to be loved. When it was withheld, I would instinctively look elsewhere and be disappointed. Even in the best loving relationship there has – at least for me – remained an incompleteness. My heart’s desire cannot be adequately expressed. In the depths of my heart and soul has always been a desire for completeness, like a seed planted in the soil waiting to be watered. The seed can remain planted for years, giving and receiving nothing. It’s dormant – having no knowledge that it can actually LIVE and produce fruit. The fact that it is asleep however, makes it no less a seed, its purpose remains.
As far back as my memory goes, I have always had this built-in longing - the desire to love and be loved by my Parent, my Father, the One whose DNA lives inside me calling me into alignment with Him. He desired me before I was; He created me with a desire for natural alignment with Him. I had been asleep for so long, living underground, until one day, the rain came down.
No longer do I feel the need to seek from others what can only be fulfilled in Him and by Him. That emptiness has been filled. I am whole. My only real desire is for Him, to seek Him always, and to live in Him as He lives in me.
“I am my beloved’s and his desire is for me,” Song of Solomon 7:10.
Posted by Hope on July 27, 2009 at 05:45 AM in Growing with Hope, Prayer is Always Answered, Thriving vs. Surviving | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Posted by Hope on July 19, 2009 at 02:00 PM in For Change, Growing with Hope, Hope and Grace, Life at its Best | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
When things get difficult – like learning a new job, or language, I can make myself physically ill. Then, the mental battle begins … give up … no, don’t give up. I question my motives for having begun whatever I’ve undertaken. I get easily frustrated.
I’ve been taking Hebrew lessons since March. I don’t know why … it’s just something I really want to do. I don’t think I breathe much during my lessons, which explains the headache after the classes. During a lesson – as long as I’m not called upon – I’m getting it. It’s being rooted. It’s all good. But … by the next day whatever I’ve learned has leaked out of my head … as if it was never there. I could give up. It would certainly free up much of my time. It’s surely the easiest road to choose, but then I won’t be able to speak, read, or write Hebrew. My longing will remain unfulfilled.
If I give up on learning Hebrew what will be next? How would giving up – losing hope – help me in the pursuit of my dreams and desires? Giving up – it’s not an option - no matter how many times I mull it over.
Abraham followed blindly and became a father of many nations. Moses wandered willingly and saw the Promised Land. Ruth remained committed and was abundantly blessed with a new faith, a husband, and a child; and David waited patiently to be crowned. When you put things into perspective hope lives on. Giving up – it’s not an option.
“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you.” Psalm 39:7.
Posted by Hope on June 23, 2009 at 09:11 PM in Driven by Purpose, Growing with Hope, Life at its Best | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
It was Shrek, the greatest animated ogre of the twenty-first century who said, “Blue flower, red thorns! Blue flower, red thorns! Blue flower, red thorns! Oh, this would be so much easier if I wasn’t colour-blind!”
I was always a sensitive child. It took years and years to learn how to hide my feelings – even then – it wasn’t easy and it didn’t work well. I had been taught that displays of emotion, especially those accompanied by tears, were a sign of weakness; weak people have no pride or self-respect – they let people walk all over them. I never understood what I was being taught, but like much of my time spent in school – I faked it pretty good – I fooled a lot of people. My proficiency in holding myself together increased, so I thought, but every now and then the dam would give way and I’d feel as if I was drowning in a flood of tears, swimming in failure.
I cursed my sensitivity. I wished I couldn’t feel. I became angry with God for making me such a sap; I felt as if He was laughing at me, messing with my head. He made me weak! Just when you think you’ve got things all together – you’ve got your head on straight and tight …
A friend and I were discussing the perpetual thorns that seem to poke at us as we do life – with others, with family, with God. What the thorn is doesn’t really matter – it’s the root of the matter that is significant. It seems as though that thorn always knows where to dig, jab, or stab, and when.
This past year – OY – it’s hurt. As I compose this post, it occurs to me that I can’t remember having cried so many tears before. But I want to share something with you: this past year has also been the greatest year of my life because of and despite the hurt. Blue flower, red thorns.
God has shown me that without the abundant portion of emotion He’s given me – He’s blessed me with – I wouldn’t need Him the way I do. I wouldn’t desire to be His favourite daughter, or His BFF, or a servant after His own heart. I wouldn’t hurt about what hurts Him. I wouldn’t feel compassion for those He loves. I wouldn’t be grateful for what I've been given, what I’ve been taken through, for how much and well I’ve been loved nor would I appreciate the cost of that love. None of that would make a difference if I couldn’t feel.
I am learning to live life and to love life with that thorn. I am finally grasping the truth that the thorn doesn’t make the rose any less beautiful. I don’t want to go through life in black and white. I don’t want to be colour-blind anymore.
I’ll be that flower – thorn and all – because I know I was fearfully and wonderfully made; I know that full well.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor. 12:9.
Posted by Hope on June 09, 2009 at 04:33 AM in Growing with Hope, Hope and Grace, Life at its Best | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
My eyes locked on the eyes of the wind and sun-weathered face of the man holding the STOP sign. He gazed upon me while my bold and brazen, beady little eyes bored through Him. He walked to my car, waving the motorists behind me by. He bent down and smiled. I lowered the window.
“Having a tough day, Hope?”
Oh – my – God! It’s HIM! I just knew, with everything in me, it was Him. “I’m sorry, Lord. I guess I’m a little impatient with all this resurfacing going on.”
“Is there something you’d like to ask me?”
“Well, Lord…now that you mention it…could you not have just made me, in the beginning, the way you wanted me to be at the end? All these resurfacing projects are rather troublesome. It’s as if every season there’s one project after another. It seems to me if you would have – well – that is to say – you could have made me the way you wanted me to be from the beginning. Then you wouldn’t have to keep working on me and you could work on someone else – who needs it more.”
Of course you know He was smiling at the exact moment that I realized what an idiot I just sounded like and how very much I need a lesson in humility. Don’t be surprised, He’s about to give me one.
“It has to do with cost and future growth. You see Hope, in the beginning, when I made man I made him in my image, not my exact likeness, so that he could recognize the family resemblance. Because I made you, I don’t need to rebuild you. You live in a world where people are tearing up the roads of life; the seasons take their toll. In my great love for you, I come around and resurface – smooth out the rough edges and level what has caused the surface to buckle. I want to pave the way for you, Hope. I’m for you not against you. I’m here to help, not hinder you. The foundation you were built upon is solid and very dear. Yes – I’m preparing you – clearing a path, so to speak. I could have saved myself all the time and effort, all the tears and heartache, but you’re worth it and I enjoy the time we spend – these moments when you have no choice but to stop and talk to me, and listen to me. Do you understand?”
I felt as if I was choking – on my tears, the words that wouldn’t come out, but most of all my pride – my stupid, stupid pride.
He reached His dusty hand inside the car and brushed the tear from my cheek then motioned for me to move on. When I got home, I rushed to the bathroom; I stared at my dirt and tear-stained face – a face that was touched by the hand of God.
Aren’t you thankful that He loves you just the way you are, but that He loves you enough not to leave you as you are?
“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27.
Posted by Hope on June 08, 2009 at 04:45 AM in Growing with Hope, Perspective | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)



