Until Then, I Trust

Vol. 21 No. 19 | May 13, 2019

Earlier this year, the gentleman who takes care of our lawn told me the trees along our back fence would eventually need to be trimmed. So when the time came, we set a date and then I didn’t think much more of it.

I got home right as his employee was finishing up, so I went out back to inspect his work. Apparently, the look on my face showed my surprise and disappointment because he immediately began apologizing.

I quietly expressed my frustration, but there was nothing else I could do. The work had been done. He assured me they would grow back and fill out quickly, even fuller than before.

These trees are important to us. They provide valuable shade as the sun sets in the west and also help buffer the sound of traffic coming from the road behind us.

Although his reassurance provided little consolation, it did remind me of an important lesson from the teachings of Jesus that both encourages and haunts me.

As His disciples were processing Jesus’s comments about His impending departure and the treatment He, and eventually they, would be subjected to, He assured them:

“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 (The Greek for he prunes also means he cleans.) so that it will be even more fruitful. (John 15:1-2)

I imagine the gardener (just like the landscaper) going through the vineyard examining each branch, gently trimming some and leaving others. I also imagine the plants watching carefully, feeling the gardener’s gentle but strong hands as he cuts each branch.

I imagine the plant weeping a bit when a branch is cut and falls to the ground. Then the gardener saying, “I understand this is a painful process. But it is only for a time. Because of what I am doing now, you will grow stronger and healthier and bear even more fruit than before.”

I am no gardener. I’m the guy who once completely destroyed a Mimosa tree. People marveled at my ability: “I didn’t know you could actually kill a Mimosa tree.” So, I have to trust the landscaper. He’s the expert.

There are times when our branches need to be trimmed so that we can grow stronger and healthier. It hurts. It’s unpleasant. We don’t like it or understand it at the time. But we have to trust that the master Gardener knows what He is doing. We have to trust that He loves us, knows us better than we know ourselves and is doing what’s best for us.

I check the trees on a daily basis, usually at sunset, to see if the landscaper’s prophecy is accurate. The process is slower than I prefer. But it reminds me that growth- real and meaningful growth- takes time.

I look forward to the day when the trees are full and beautiful again…fuller and more beautiful than before. Until then, I trust.

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Tom Norvell’s Counseling

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Chick here to order Until Hope Returns.

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