Accepting Twig Status

img_1087John 15: 5-8…(Jesus Teaching) “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you will bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”

I have a problem. An identity assignment problem if you will. You see, my mind thinks it’s this big beautiful tree with glorious roots diving deep into the soil. But reality says otherwise. I’m a twig. A lowly, fragile, don’t know squat about squat…twig. Sticking awkwardly off the branch going every which direction with the wind, and totally dependent on the branch, and further, the tree, for every need.

The mind says – “What a loser. Jump down in the earth idiot, and become a tree yourself. You just think you need that tree, but that tree is just using that to control you. It’s a rigged game. All the trees are in on it. Jump!” The branch says – “I’ve told you the truth. You know it’s the truth. But the choice is yours. Jump and die, or stay and live.” I look around my surroundings in the beautiful land my tree stands, and I see mounds of fallen trees, branches and twigs. Dead. In big heaps. Storms, wind, age, fire…take your pic. Death is everywhere in the forest. So is life. I surely will stay. I made that decision a long time ago. I believe the branch, and I love and trust the tree. So what is my problem?

The issue here is that until I fully submit to the fact that I’m a stupid twig, I can’t fully turn into the thick and growing branch the tree wants and needs me to be. Perhaps I’m being a little hard on myself here…but that’s how it feels. Maybe I’m like half twig/half branch. With little tiny buds of fruit starting to blossom. But then I stunt them by going right back to dreaming about being the tree. The ground calls out…”Hey stupid twig, are you still listening to those fairy tales? You’re a special kind of stupid, aren’t you?” But I know they aren’t fairy tales. I know the fate those voices will sooner than they imagine will face. It’s right there all around them. But they can’t see it…they just walk around it, talk around it, and squawk about it. Even if I never become anything more than this twig/branch hybrid thingy, the branch, via the tree, have given me eternal life. They have time to be patient with me.

I love them so for that. I want to be more for them. It burns inside me. Grow up, twig…grow.

I took this photo on sabbatical this week in Cades Cove, Tennessee, in the Smoky Mountain National Park. It reminded me of those red letters of Jesus…and inspired this pondering. I hope it gives you cause to ponder, too…maybe. My fellow twigs.

Gary Abernathy

 

 

 

 

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