Tag Archive for: John 15:1-2

John 15:1-2 — I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit He takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.

Hindsight really is twenty-twenty.

It’s funny how we sometimes laugh about things we once cried over. Moments that felt overwhelming, personal, and devastating can eventually become stories we tell around the dinner table.

One of my earliest memories is throwing a full-blown tantrum over a hot dog. I wanted to squeeze the mustard on it myself, but my mom beat me to it. I was furious. Kicking, flailing, acting like the world had ended.

Little Brendan felt like his soul had been assassinated.

Big Brendan doesn’t even keep mustard in his fridge.

A lot of our problems are like that. Time gives us perspective, and what once felt enormous can eventually look surprisingly small.

But not every problem is a hot dog.

Some wounds alter the course of your life. Some losses take years to heal. Some pain runs so deep that nobody wants to bring it up around the dinner table.

And in those seasons, we can misunderstand the hand of our Father.

Jesus says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” He tells us that the gardener prunes the branches so they can bear more fruit.

Pruning isn’t always easy to understand while it’s happening. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes we can’t see what God is doing—or why He’s allowing us to walk through something so painful.

But we can trust the Gardener.

God isn’t trying to destroy you. He is faithful to work in you, even in the places that hurt. He can take what feels broken and use it to grow something beautiful. He doesn’t waste our pain. He can redeem it, repurpose it, and use it to draw us closer to Him.

Maybe someday you’ll look back and see things differently. Not because the pain didn’t matter, but because God met you in it—and changed how you carried it.

The same God who is with you in the pruning is the God who will bring forth new growth.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there a painful season in your life that you still don’t understand?
  • Where might God be growing something in you through that experience?
  • What would it look like today to trust the Gardener, even when you can’t yet see what He’s doing?

John 15:1-2 — I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and He prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.

It’s just after sunrise, and I’m sitting on the balcony of my apartment with a blanket over my knees and a mug of coffee in my hands. The air is crisp enough to make me pull the blanket tighter.

Everything is still except for the gardener below, tending to the landscaping.

It’s the perfect time for honesty. I close my eyes and whisper the same prayer I’ve been bringing to God for what feels like forever.

“God, can you please just put me back together?”

I want to be whole. I wanted to be the way I remember being before life started chipping away at me.

I take a deep breath and open a book I love. On the pages, a quote from Jon Rodel catches my eye:

“What if, instead of breaking down, you are actually breaking through?”

Oh my goodness. That is so good. It makes me want to run around.

But it doesn’t stop there. It goes on to say, “God is peeling back the parts of us that we do not need anymore. The fear. The pride. The toxic relationships. The toxic actions that we have inside of us. The brokenness. The things that once held us together, but now hold us back. And in their place, God is building something new. You’re not changing. God says you’re becoming, becoming who I created you to be full of light, full of love, full of courage and grace.”

As I read, I thought about the gardener below pruning a rosebush.

From the outside, it looks cruel—cutting back healthy branches, stripping leaves away. But the gardener knows the blooms will come back brighter and stronger for it.

That’s how this feels. It’s like He’s peeling away the things that once held me together but now hold me back.

Now, I know that when my life feels like it is falling apart, God is still working on me. Some days, I still reach for the glue to try to put the petals back on the leaves. But more and more, I’m learning to leave my hands open. To let the Gardener work without rushing Him.

The coffee is cold by the time I finish thinking about these things. But you know what? I can’t help but smile.