Submit to God’s Pruning

I have a peace lily that has moved with our family across the United States a few times. Lately, the leaves have turned brown, and I’ve had to water more often. The peace lily is known for its low-maintenance classification and its ability to purify the air. Even its pruning process is low-maintenance—just simple deadheading.

After weeks of dumping the last of my water bottle into the plant as I walked by, I finally decided to troubleshoot with Google. I realized that my low-maintenance plant was crying out for help. Even though I was attentive to my plant, I’d neglected to set aside time to prune it, and the brown leaves were in desperate need of removal.

Not only was my plant suffering from dead leaves, but I was preventing new growth:

“Peace lilies produce their flowers on stalks that grow up from the base of the plant. Once a stalk has made one flower, it won’t make any more—after the flower fades, the stalk will eventually brown and die as well. Peace lily pruning should be done at the base of the plant. This will make room for new stalks to emerge.”

Jesus used the imagery of pruning with the disciples just before his crucifixion in John 15:1-8, which says,

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  Every branch in me that does not produce fruit he removes, and he prunes every branch that produces fruit so that it will produce more fruit.  You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I in you. Just as a branch is unable to produce fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me.  I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without me. If anyone does not remain in me, he is thrown aside like a branch and he withers. They gather them, throw them into the fire, and they are burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you want and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this: that you produce much fruit and prove to be my disciples. (CSB)

In this passage, Jesus teaches that both he and God have roles in the garden. He is the vine, the one who provides nourishment so we can grow. God is the gardener. We believers are the branches, and we aren’t just hanging out in the garden. First, we are to remain attached to the vine. This implies we have a choice to stay attached to Jesus. Second, we are to produce fruit. Jesus ends by explaining that we do these things because it’s how we glorify God.

At first glance, these instructions seem fairly simple. Stay attached to Jesus, and we will glorify God. But notice that the gardener prunes every branch that chooses to remain in the garden. Those that don’t produce fruit are removed, thrown in the fire, and burned. But the branches that do produce fruit don’t avoid cutting. The choice to remain attached to the vine is also a choice to submit to pruning.

It’s easy to convince ourselves that when difficulties arise, it’s because God is punishing us; however, there are many times in the Bible when we’re warned that following God will include difficult seasons of life.

One example in James 1:2-4 says,

Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing. (CSB)

We seem to forget that Jesus told us staying attached to him includes choosing to allow God to prune us. In a difficult moment, we assign a new rationale for the stress or wound we’re facing. As I’ve learned about pruning, I’ve come to realize that part of why Jesus used this example was to help the disciples see beyond the initial wound pruning causes.

Southern Living Plants explains there are two reasons to prune: heading and thinning, which each serve a different purpose. “Heading promotes new blooms and a fuller appearance. Pinching or cutting off dead and spent flowers and foliage gets rid of the unsightly growth while forcing production of new stems, leaves, and flowers. For some plants, new flowers will not grow until spent flowers are removed.”

Just like with my peace lily, the gardener prunes us to allow for new growth. If we don’t allow God to prune away the things (or people) that refuse to allow us to grow, eventually, we will suffocate and die.

“The pruning process of thinning greatly improves appearance and flower size and helps prevent disease.” Thinning is also used if a plant expands too far beyond the border of its flower bed. God can use the pruning process to help us establish better boundaries.

I don’t know anyone who hasn’t experienced some pruning recently. The process is rarely, if ever, easy, and it often includes some initial pain. However, if you think about some of the scenarios where you’ve experienced pruning in your past, I wonder if the initial pain was followed by relief or growth. I know this is true in my life.

The choice to remain attached to Jesus, the eternal source of life, cost the disciples their earthly lives. They were persecuted, suffered physical harm, and died painful deaths. Our perseverance wavers much quicker these days. However, God’s promise regarding why he prunes us remains the same. It’s for our good. Pruning removes dead weight, helps us establish boundaries, and allows us to flourish. When we are at our best, we then can produce more fruit that glorifies God.

The choice to remain attached to the vine is a daily choice, one that brings mercy, joy, and unmatched love. It’s also a choice to allow God, the gardener whose view is much broader and more accurate than ours, to prune us for our good and his glory. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.

Beth Walker is a football coach’s wife and mom of two energetic boys. She strives to encourage those around her to pursue their best lives in Jesus whether she is near the game field, in church, or at the local coffee shop. As a writer, Beth has been striving to find her voice through seeing Jesus in the ordinary and extraordinary of daily life. She blogs at Lessons from the Sidelines.

Photograph © Max Williams, used with permission