Zucchini's popularity can be explained primarily by both its ease in growing and its bountifulness.  It may not be that one zucchini plant will yield 100 of the things, but it sure seems that way, and that is how the recipe for zucchini bread was born—a gardener going out day after day hoping for something else but finding nothing but zucchini, and you have to do something with them!  Your neighbors learn to run when they see you coming with a sackful, or they cower inside pretending not to be at home when you knock.

If you are a gardener (or know one), you have probably made your fair share of zucchini bread.  We quit growing zucchini a long time ago.  We prefer yellow summer squash instead.  At least it has a little flavor.  But it also works for zucchini bread, and I have found a way to make that little loaf that is actually worth baking, no matter which you use.

 Most zucchini (or squash) bread is compact and dense, and just about flavorless.  Try this instead.  Take your usual recipe.  Cut the amount of oil almost in half.  Use brown sugar instead of white granulated, and at least double the cinnamon.  If you use nuts, toast them first.  Then here is the big trick—put all that grated zucchini in a dish towel and squeeze as hard as you can over a sink.  You will get anywhere from ½ to 1 cup of water out of that squash.  No wonder the loaf was flavorless. It was literally washed out.

 Now you will have a lighter loaf that is still plenty moist and actually has some flavor instead of that compact brick that hardly rises above the top of the pan.  In fact, you won’t mind serving this one to guests, and they won’t run away and hide when you mention it either.

 Modern organized religion has suffered the same fate as that old zucchini bread recipe.  It is literally washed out from all the additions men have made.  Just as schools are now expected to teach the things that parents should teach at home, churches are expected to right the social injustices in this world and support every worthy cause in manpower and money.  You can read the New Testament from Matthew to Revelation and never find half the things found in a modern denomination.  But then these are the same people who, like the Jews of Jesus’ day, expect a physical kingdom on this earth.  They’ve stopped hoping for Heaven and settled for a poor imitation right now.

 My kingdom is not of this world, Jesus said, John 18:36.  Jeremiah prophesied that no one from the lineage of Jeconiah (the kingly line of Judah through David) would ever sit on the throne reigning in Jerusalem, despite the beliefs of thousands of dispensationalists, Jer 22:31.  The work of the church is not about feeding the hungry—it’s about feeding the soul.  It’s not about making sure everyone has a fair shake in this life—it’s about enduring that injustice and making ourselves fit for the next life.  Check this out yourself:  churches that are sold on the social gospel no longer preach much about heaven.  To them this life is what matters and that’s why they are so hung up on it.  That’s why their religion is so waterlogged with extraneous rituals and activities.  That’s why so many of the “un-churched” are turned off by the dense brick of bread they are handed instead of the bread of life.

 Get out your Bibles and examine your church against the one in the New Testament.  Look through Acts and see how they converted sinners.  Here’s a hint:  it wasn’t with soup kitchens and Wednesday night potlucks.  Now look through the epistles and see the work they did.  It had nothing to do with gymnasiums and playgrounds.  See what they did when they met together for a formal group worship.  It wasn’t about entertainment.  Now maybe you can see the difference between an oily sodden brick of bread and a light flavorful loaf that actually appeals to the appetite.

 But then maybe it’s your appetite that is the problem in the first place. 

Jesus answered them and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, You seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves, and were filled.  Work not for the food which perishes, but for the food which abides unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, hath sealed,John 6:26-27.

Dene Ward

We’ve all seen those definitions of pessimism and optimism, the classic being the half-empty or half-full glass.  As a gardener, I’ve come up with my own.  When you look out over your herb garden, do you see beautiful brightly colored butterflies flitting around, or does your mind’s eye conjure up green caterpillars on naked parsley stems, their leaves stripped away practically overnight?  I have a friend who is overjoyed at the sight of a butterfly.  I often have a difficult time sharing her joy.

But I recognize the problem.  Pessimism can easily turn to cynicism.  We want to rationalize that by calling it “being realistic.”  But here’s the difference: 

Realism understands that you won’t save everyone (Matt 7:13,14).  Cynicism doesn’t even try. 

Realism knows that you are unlikely to change the mind of that misled young man in the white shirt and tie who knocked on your door with Bible in hand, but it greets him with kindness and respect.  Cynicism views him not as a lost soul, but as an adversary and approaches him with sarcasm and downright hatefulness.

Realism knows that perhaps even a majority of those who ask for help at the meetinghouse door are making prey of good-hearted brethren, but it takes the time to politely ask a few questions and determine an appropriate action just in case.  Cynicism immediately tars them all with the same brush and sends them on empty-handed, both physically and spiritually.

Realism is compassion tempered with wisdom.  “Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”  Cynicism is malice fueled by pessimism.  It looks for the worst, it expects the worst, and ultimately it rejoices in finding it.  That is about as un-Christlike as it comes.

So watch the butterflies today and enjoy them.  You can always check for caterpillars in the parsley later, and then rejoice when you only find a few.

[Love} does not rejoice at unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  1Cor 13:6-7.

Dene Ward

About that freeze—we may not have thought to protect our hibiscus, but we most certainly thought about our tomato plant.  It is a Cherokee Purple, an heirloom variety, one of the few that produces well and does not easily catch plant diseases.  They are also some of the tastiest tomatoes you ever put in your mouth.  So yes, Keith dug around in the garage and found an old sheet that was large enough to cover the tomato which stood a good five feet high in its planter against the side fence.  Then he rooted around further for the trouble light and an outdoor extension cord, scrounged up a lightbulb and put it under the sheet and plugged it in to the outdoor outlet.

 Neither one of us thought a thing about it until he removed the sheet two days later and felt no warmth at all.  He hadn't thought and had put an LED lightbulb in the trouble light!  Whereas incandescent bulbs will give you plenty of warmth for temperatures of about 30 degrees, an LED won't warm anything at all.  All we had done was protect it from frost.  The fact that the sheet held the plant's own warmth and it sat so close to the house, kept it from being completely destroyed.  We lost a few leaves and the ends of a limb or two, but the dozen or so tomatoes hanging there were still alive and with a few days of warmth they ripened—but it certainly wasn't our fault.

 Some people are a little like LED bulbs.  They may say and do the right things, but there is no heart in it at all.  You can tell when someone truly empathizes with you and when it's just the standard talk.  Trust me, the preacher knows when, "Good lesson," accompanied by a handshake is truly meant and when it's just a pro forma comment as one leaves the building.  If one is honest, he can tell when a correction from a brother comes from a heart of love that truly cares and when that correction comes with a "So there!" hidden among its words. 

 And God can tell when our obedience comes from a sincere heart of love and devotion and when it's just checklist religion.  When the works don't match the words it has become painfully apparent that the obedience is not heartfelt. 

 Compassion, comfort, love, sincerity—all of these conjure up warmth in our minds, people who truly care and have truly devoted their lives to living like Jesus did.  Don't plug in an LED light instead.

But thank God that, although you used to be slaves of sin, you obeyed from the heart that pattern of teaching you were transferred to  Rom6:17.

By obedience to the truth, having purified yourselves for sincere love of the brothers, love one another earnestly from a pure heart1Pet1:22.

Dene Ward

 Contrary to popular opinion, it does get cold in Florida once in a while.  How cold?  Depends upon where you are.  In North Florida, where we lived for 43 years, temperatures dropped into the teens at least once a year.  One year we hit single digits, but that is not common.  I do remember a winter where we were below freezing every night for two weeks and the highs were in the forties.  I remember freezes when I was a child that led to the southern shift of the Citrus Line—the line above which citrus could not grow.  This is why the plants we grew in North Florida were not the same plants we grow here in Tampa.

 The first winter we were back in Tampa we did not have a freeze.  That same winter Lucas, who preaches in the panhandle about 30 miles this side of Pensacola, had 6 inches of snow, but we merely fell to the forties.  This past winter we had a couple of freezes.  We never even thought about the hibiscus.  I was so used to plants that weathered cold weather that it slipped my mind entirely.  That next morning I was horrified.  All the leaves were completely dead, leaving bare, brown branches.  My favorite bush was dead!

 We looked up IFAS, the University of Florida's Agriculture page.  Wait at least four weeks, it said, before you cut it back.  If you cut it too early and another freeze occurs, the plant will suffer even more.  What looks like dead plant can actually protect what might be left in the case of another freeze.  You must wait several days or even weeks.  That is what we have done.  Meanwhile, we did have one more freeze, but we kept to the plan and waited.

 What happened?  Green growth all over the shrub is what happened.  Tiny leaf buds are sprouting on roughly 65% of every limb.  Every day the leaves grow larger and before another week I believe the growth will be visible from the street.  We will once again have a beautiful tri-colored bush.

 Being a parent is hard.  You can work yourself to the bone, not just on physical care, but on spiritual teaching as well, only to see your precious child slip away into the world.  Somehow others influence him more than you did, at least you presume so.  Why else would he have left what you not only taught him, but lived in front of him?

 Of course, the first answer is that he has his own free will.  Part of realizing the falsity of predestination is also accepting that each person is responsible for his own decisions in life.  And sometimes even the best of us makes a truly stupid decision.  But I firmly believe that all is not lost. 

 Don't give up.  Wait.  Maybe a hard freeze has hit his soul and he has some damage, even some dieback.  Wait.  Carefully consider anything you say and do.  You are supposed to water cold-damaged plants because their roots may be too damaged to function properly, and because cold weather is nearly always accompanied by low humidity.  Water, but do not fertilize, they say.  Maybe what that translates to is be there for him, but don't push too hard.  You yourself know that his return must be his decision, not yours.

 But dieback does not mean totally dead.  With care, the plant can begin to come back from the damage.  The old leaves and limbs must eventually be pruned, but no lower than the new growth.  The roots of the plant are still there and sooner or later they will take over and send up a new, perhaps even more beautiful, plant.

 What is our old saying?  "Where there's life, there's hope."  Don't give up on your precious child.  Maybe, just maybe, the roots of your strong teaching during his childhood will once again blossom.  But understand this:  if you are still in that teaching phase, you must teach as if his life depends upon it—because that just might be true.

These words that I am giving you today are to be in your heart.Repeat them to your children. Talk about them when you sit in your house and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.Bind them as a sign on your hand and let them be a symbol on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gatesDeut6:6-9.

Dene Ward

I have well over a dozen amaryllises in a bed begun after a piano student gave me one for Christmas one year.  The deep solid red is probably the most common, but I have that and everything from pale pink and bright apricot, to stripes of white on red, pink, and apricot; pink throats on a pristine white, or white throats on deep orange or red as well.  They are gorgeous, but sometimes they don’t bloom, and that leaves me disappointed, usually with half the bulbs every year.  So I decided to find out what keeps amaryllises from blooming to see if I could remedy the problem.  Here is what I discovered and what I extrapolated.

 Amaryllises will not bloom in full shade.  They may not need full sun, especially in this sub-tropical environment, but they need enough light to draw that big thick stem up out of the bulb and through the soil and mulch.

 The New Testament tells us we need the Light, too.  John says that as long as we walk in the light, we won’t stumble (1 John 2:9-11).  It variously calls us sons of light and children of light; it says we are “of the day not the night.”  And because we have that Light and live in it, we then become “the light of the world.”  Certainly a Christian who does not live in the light will never bloom.

 Amaryllises need sufficient nutrients.  Just as a larger animal needs more food, this large flower needs good soil, and ample food and water.  Many of my amaryllis bulbs were as big as softballs when they came out of the package, and many of the blooms are broader across than some of Keith’s garden cantaloupes.  Especially in this poor sandy soil, we must be sure to supply the proper nutrition if we want anything to come out of it.

 We need nutrition too.  Peter tells us to “long for the pure spiritual milk that by it we may grow up into salvation” 1 Pet 2:2.  How can we do that if we neglect all the feeding opportunities our shepherds have offered us?  How can we do it when we shun the healthy spiritual food and feast on the junk in this life?  I have seen many brothers and sisters go hog wild with the organic, all-natural, non-GMO craze when taking care of their physical bodies, yet starve their spirits with skimpy servings and junk food.  No wonder their blooms are so scarce and puny.

 This might be surprising, but not allowing them to rest will also keep amaryllises from blooming.  You can force blooms at certain times of the year, but then you must prune both the stem and leaves and water them prodigiously until they go dormant.  Then leave them alone! 

 God did not rest on the seventh day because He was tired.  He rested because He was finished, but in that rest he also ordained a day of rest for His people.  Do you understand what that means?  In that ancient time, the common people lived hand to mouth and they worked sunup till sundown seven days a week just to survive.  But not God’s people.  As long as they observed their commanded Sabbath, He made sure they had plenty.  God knows what you need and sometimes you need to rest.  It may no longer be a religious observance, but it is certainly a matter of health.  And rest doesn’t mean going on a vacation that leaves you more worn out than rested.  It means a day with no schedule, no stressful situations, nothing hanging over your head that “just has to be done.”  Spend some time with your family—just one full day a week, any day—rest your body and your mind, and talk of the blessings God has given you all, especially the time you have to be together because He has taken such good care of you.

 And this last one really surprised me.  If you take your amaryllis bulbs out of the ground and store them in the refrigerator, you should not store them with apples.  Apples will make an amaryllis bulb sterile, or so I have been told.  Apples?  Apples are good things, right?  But even things that look good can make a plant sterile and unproductive it turns out. 

 Haven’t you seen the same thing happen to Christians?  They become so involved in things of this world, good things, that there is no time left for producing the fruit God wants from us.  Or they hang around with people who are not their spiritual brothers and sisters to the point that what matters most to those people becomes what matters most to them.  Other people, people who do not understand that we are to encourage one another and build one another up spiritually, who care nothing for the spiritual warfare we are involved in, who would, in fact, think you are nuts to even talk about such a thing, can hinder your productivity for the Lord.

 So take a look at your amaryllises today if you have them.  Think about the things that affect those gorgeous blooms.  See if any of them are affecting you too.

And let our people learn to devote themselves to good works, so as to help cases of urgent need, and not be unfruitful, Titus 3:14.

Dene Ward

My big flower bed on the south side of the shed attracts butterflies by the score.  Every day I see both white and yellow sulfurs, tiny blue hairstreaks, huge brown and yellow swallowtails, and glorious orange monarchs and viceroys flitting from bloom to bloom.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the bloom stops and the butterfly begins amid all those big yellow black-eyed Susans, multicolored zinnias, and purple petunias. 

 But have you ever watched a butterfly?  If you and I decided to go somewhere the way a butterfly goes, it would take all day to get there.  We have a saying: “as the crow flies,” meaning a straight line course.  A butterfly couldn’t fly a straight line no matter how hard it tried—it would always fail the state trooper’s sobriety test.

 Some of us live our spiritual lives like butterflies.  We seem to think that waking up in the morning and allowing life to just “happen” is the way to go.  No wonder we don’t grow.  No wonder we fail again and again at the same temptations.  No wonder we don’t know more about the Word of God this year than last, and no wonder we can’t stand the trials of faith.

 Some folks think that going to church is the plan.  That’s why their neighbors would be surprised to find out they are Christians—Sunday is their only day of service.  Others refuse to acknowledge any weakness they need to work on.  It rankles their pride to admit they need to improve on anything, and because they won’t admit anything specific, they never do improve. 

 Some folks make their life decisions with no consideration at all for their spiritual health, or the good of the kingdom.  The stuff of this life matters the most, and only after that do they give the spiritual a thought, if at all, and it is to be dismissed if it means anything untoward for their physical comfort, convenience, status, or wealth. 

 The only plan they have for their children is their physical welfare—how they will do in school, where they will go to college, what career they will pursue.  They must get their schoolwork, but their parents don’t even know what they are studying in Bible classes, much less make sure they get their lessons.  It’s too much trouble to take them to spiritual gatherings of other young Christians.  And have you seen how much those camps cost?!  Probably less than a year’s worth of cell phone service and much less than the car they buy those same kids. 

 Where is the plan for this family’s spiritual growth?  Where is their devotion to a God they claim as Lord?  If their children do end up faithful, it will be in spite of these parents, not because of them.

 God expects us to have a plan.  The writer of the seventeenth psalm had one.  “I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress,” he says in verse 3, and then later, “I have avoided the ways of the violent, my steps have held fast to your paths,” (4b,5a).  He made a vow and he kept it.  He mapped his life out to stay away from evil and on the road to his Father.

 How are you doing as you fly through life—and it does fly, people!  Are you flitting here and there, around one bush and over another, out of the flower bed entirely once in awhile, then back in for a quick sip of nectar before heading off in whichever direction the wind blows?  Or do you have a plan, a map to get you past the pitfalls with as little danger as possible, to the necessary stops for revival and refreshing, but then straight back on the road to your next life?

 Do you know what the term social butterfly means?  It’s someone who flits from group to group.  Perhaps not so much now, but originally the term was one of ridicule.  I wonder what God would think of a spiritual butterfly who has no focus on the spiritual things of this life, but flits from one thing to another and always on a carnal whim rather than a spiritual one.  I wonder if He would decide that butterfly wouldn’t be able to appreciate an eternity of spiritual things either.

…And [Barnabas] exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith...  Acts 11:23,24.

Dene Ward

When we moved to our new home in Tampa, we renovated more than the house.  The grass was patchy and thin.  The front walk from the driveway to the door was nearly overgrown with schefflera on both sides.  You almost needed a machete to get through.  The podocarpus were trimmed like a French poodle and the gardenia by the front door nearly covered the front step and rarely bloomed.  The oleanders were spindly and almost bare.  First the sod went in and then out came the oleanders and the schefflera that hid the front walk.  The rest of them we trimmed so we could see out the windows.  We allowed the podocarpus to grow and fill in the strange shapes they had been pruned into and finally, they look almost normal—a sentinel on each side of the garage. 

 Finally, we found what we wanted by the front door—a triple hibiscus that blooms red, pink, and yellow.  Out came the gardenia which had proved such a disappointment, and in went the hibiscus, which has been a beautiful addition to the entry.  Every morning I open the door to count the blooms and the colors.  It is now 6 feet high and fills that spot perfectly. 

 I am especially happy with the hibiscus.  When I was a small child in Orlando, the first house I remember sat at the top of an inclined cul-de-sac, or what most people back then called a dead end street.  It was a two bedroom, one bath concrete block house, painted green with a maroon trim around the roof and on the front screen door.  A back screened porch had been closed in to make a "TV room" as we called it, which left the small front room as a living room where we received our guests, mostly family and church people.  I found the original sale price of the house sometime in the past few years—something around $7000, if I remember correctly.  It couldn't have been more than 900 sq ft.

 Besides the front step, on the left side of the house under the front bedroom windows was an attached brick planter.  My mother grew roses there and something she called "shrimp plants."  You can look it up yourself to find the big fancy name, and picture of the blooms that do indeed look a bit like shrimp.  On the right side of the house, which I always thought was east and only found out was west when I grew up, she had planted a hibiscus with bright red blooms as large as my little girl head.  I must have really liked that plant because I remember it so well

 .  In the last few years of my mother's life, she began telling me stories of both her childhood and mine as a baby and toddler, things I could never have remembered myself.  She said that my Daddy had taught me the names of all the car makes by the time I was three and I could point to any car on the road and tell him what it was.  He enjoyed showing me off to his friends, whom, she said, were amazed.  One time I pointed to a car and told him it was a "Wincoln."  The only problem was, its turn signal was going and they never really knew if I was saying it was a "Wincoln," or it was "winkin'. 

 But more to the point this morning is the time she and I walked around the house on the west side and I saw a hibiscus bloom close to the ground.  She said that I asked, "Mommy, is that a lobiscus?"  It took her a moment to realize that when I heard the name "hibiscus" what I really heard was "high-biscus," so of course a bloom near the ground would be a low-biscus to me.

 Children are smarter than most people credit them.  They make connections that we in our orderly-minded way cannot.  Children with disabilities sometimes learn things that no one ever expected them to be able to do or remember because they come up with ways to do them that no one else had thought of, thinking "outside the box" as we call it as if it were some adult-only possibility.  When you consider that children with parents from two different nationalities can learn more than one language in the first two years of life, it ought not to be such a surprise.

 God knows children far better than some of their parents do.  The things I have seen small children learn will just plain knock your socks off.  And so it shouldn't be such a surprise that God expected children to ask questions and even arranged things specifically for that reason.

 When your children ask you, ‘What does this ritual mean to you? ’you are to reply, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, for He passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt when He struck the Egyptians and spared our homes.’ ” So the people bowed down and worshiped Exod12: 26,27.

 Even today, Orthodox Jews, when celebrating the Passover, have their children ask, "The Four Questions," so that the story of God's deliverance is remembered and passed to each generation.

 That was not the only time God set things up specifically to cause the younger generation to ask questions.  After the entire nation had finished crossing the Jordan, the LORD spoke to Joshua:“Choose 12 men from the people, one man for each tribe, and command them: Take 12 stones from this place in the middle of the Jordan where the priests are standing, carry them with you, and set them down at the place where you spend the night.” So Joshua summoned the 12 men he had selected from the Israelites, one man for each tribe, and said to them, “Go across to the ark of the LORD your God in the middle of the Jordan. Each of you lift a stone onto his shoulder, one for each of the Israelite tribes, so that this will be a sign among you. In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean to you? ’ you should tell them, ‘The waters of the Jordan were cut off in front of the ark of the LORD’s covenant. When it crossed the Jordan, the Jordan’s waters were cut off.’ Therefore these stones will always be a memorial for the Israelites”Josh4:1-7.

 And we could go on and on with them.  Surely today we should heed that example and pass on our rituals and commandments to our children, telling them exactly why we do what we do.  One of the saddest things in the world is parents who do not take the time to answer their children's questions, and treat those questions as a bother. 

 Today, take that time.  Tell them why, even if they don't ask.  Maybe you have worn it out of them by not answering in the past.  Show them now that you will answer, and share your God and your faith with the ones who should matter the most to you.

“When your son asks you in the future, ‘What is the meaning of the decrees, statutes, and ordinances, which the LORD our God has commanded you? ’ tell him, ‘We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand. Before our eyes the LORD inflicted great and devastating signs and wonders on Egypt, on Pharaoh, and on all his household, but He brought us from there in order to lead us in and give us the land that He swore to our fathers. The LORD commanded us to follow all these statutes and to fear the LORD our God for our prosperity always and for our preservation, as it is today. Righteousness will be ours if we are careful to follow every one of these commands before the LORD our God, as He has commanded us’Deut6:20-25.

Our late winter/early spring gardening chores include pruning.  Pruning is serious business.  If you do it at the wrong time and in the wrong way, you can kill a plant.  But correct pruning encourages healthy growth, more flowering, heavier fruit yields, and in general, better looking plants.  Correct pruning can also scare you to death.

 If Keith had not had an experienced friend show him how to prune the grapes, he would never have done it correctly.  Light pruning does not promote fruiting on grape vines.  It takes a heavy-handed pruner, one who knows exactly how far down which vines to cut—and it is much farther than you would ever expect—to make vines that in the late summer provide both greater quantity and quality of grapes. 

 Roses also benefit from good pruning.  Every January or February (remember that we are talking here in Florida before you follow this to the letter) you should cut off 1/3 to ½ of the mature canes, plus all dead or dying branches, as well as those that cross or stray out of the general shape of the bush.  That is how you get more flowers and larger blooms, and healthier, prettier bushes altogether.

 God believes in pruning too.  John 15 is full of the imagery of pruning grape vines, cutting off those that no longer produce and throwing them into the fire, which just happens to be where we throw all our prunings as well.  God has done a lot of pruning throughout history.

 The wilderness wandering was nothing but one big pruning exercise.  All the faithless, those men of war responsible for the decision not to take the land, had to die, and a new generation be prepared.  Do you realize that if you only count those men, on average throughout those forty years, 40 men died every day?  That does not count the people who died of accident, disease and childbirth, and the women and priests who simply died of old age.  Every morning the first thing on one’s mind must have been, “Who died yesterday?”  Those people must have done nothing but bury the dead every single day for forty years.  No wonder they moved so often.

 Then there was the Babylonian captivity.  Ezekiel worked for seventy years preparing the next generation to return to the land as a righteous remnant while the older one died off.  Pruning made them better, stronger, and more able to endure those months of rebuilding, and the years that followed.

 And what else was it but pruning that made God cut off some branches (Jews) and graft in others (Gentiles)?  They were broken off because of their unbelief, Paul says in Rom 11:20, and then goes on to say that if God will prune the natural branches, he will certainly prune those that had been grafted in if their faith fails.

 God still prunes.  We tend to call it by other metaphors these days—refining our faith as gold, Peter says in one of those passages.  “Discipline” the Hebrew writer calls it, adding that the Lord only chastens those he loves.  But all these figures mean the same thing.  Pruning can be painful.  The best pruning shears are the sharp ones, for the wound will heal more quickly the cleaner the cut. 

 We carry a lot of deadwood on us that God has to whittle away through the trials and experiences of life, and with our own growth in the knowledge of the Word as we learn what is and is not acceptable to God.  It is up to us to use that pruning, shedding the dead wood and cultivating new growth, bearing more fruit, higher quality fruit, and more beautiful blooms.  If I am not growing, I can expect nothing more than my whole vine to be cut off and cast into the fire. 

 We want to be that productive grape vine with fruit so heavy and juicy we almost break from the sheer weight of it.  We want to be the rose that brings the oohs and aahs, whose perfume wafts on the breeze to all those around us.  We must submit to the pruning of the Master Gardener, glorying in His work in us, no matter how painful, so that we can “prove to be his disciples,” John 15:8, faithful to the end.

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, John 15:2.

Dene Ward