Pruning.

I have many fields to cross before I can claim to be a farmer.

When I came into this marriage,

I had plenty of heart and desire to learn about farming...

 but there's a lot to know with this farming bit.

It's not a light task:

different ways with different crops,

different behaviors for different animals,

different touches for different harvests,

different methods for better yields.

Small-scale farmers,

in order to be productive farmers,

are, by necessity, smart people.

They do a lot with the hours in each day.

I had such a zeal for growing all of our own food:

raspberries, blueberries, grapes, cherries, apples, pears,

along with the whole vegetable garden host.

But my grapes vines have been sadly abused by my unskilled hands.

It is a woeful sight.

I decided to try to fix them this year,

watching Youtube videos for some reassuring instructions

that they might be salvageable.

I faced the overwhelming mess with pruners in hand.

 The funny thing is,

as I cut them, 

they reminded me of myself.

It's easy to get caught up with things in this life,

too many things that don't really matter.

Too many things that do, or should.

Life should be simple.

I've found myself getting caught up in debates on facebook

about politics,

 religious perspectives,

health topics.

Things should be clear and easy.

But they are not.

Angry words are painful.

They give pain, they cause pain.

How I respond when I am angry or disappointed

should not be different than who I am,

whom I represent.

I wrestled with God the other night.

My tears were hot and fell on my pillow

denying me the sleep I knew I needed.

What did He want from me?

Is silence the golden ticket

or does one brandish the verbal sword?

The pain of the unknown,

of the possibility that I had done more damage than good...

I fell to sleep unsure,

disappointed.

 So God took His pruners and has been cutting my branches.

Strength is not in silent apathy.

Tyranny loves it's yellow cloak.

But folly dances to anger's brutish clamor.

Truth can be visible.

Like a candle at night, it's reality may clearly be seen,

even if error comes wrapped in the golden glow of the reflection

of truth,

 misaligned.

While sometimes swords are required to defend right,

prayer should be the sheath which holds that sword.

The grape vines were drastically reduced.

Although my uncertainty is still forefront in my attempts to do what is best for these vines,

I am hoping that a clean, airy start will be better than 

the twisting masses of unproductivity.

The unneeded pieces lay scattered on the ground,

 and as I began to clean up the mess...

and I considered the doubt and frustration,

the pain of the uncertainty of the correct response,

I looked down.

 The sun draped my shoulders with it's warmth

and I prayed that always

despite me,

God's will and wisdom would cover me.

I don't do things right.

I mess up a lot.

I don't want people to see me or hear me and think,

"What a self-righteous hypocrite."

I have no righteousness.

God's mercy is my cloak of righteousness.

And if hypocrisy mars my earthly image,

I can only pray that God will carefully prune it out.

I know that the most important people in my life...

 are watching me and learning by my ways.

I am reminded as I finish,
that my grapevines will need pruning every year,
that life is a continuous ball of lessons.

The splinters in my hands remind me that

most farmers probably wear gloves when they prune...

but my waste turned useful
makes them feel worthy...

somewhat.

"I am the vine,

ye are the branches: He that abideth in me,

and I in him,

the same bringeth forth much fruit:

for without me ye can do nothing."

^{John 15:5}

Linking up to:
Theprairiehomestead.com
Gnowfglins.com: Simple-lives-Thursday
Hiphomeschoolmoms.com: Hip-homeschool-Hop 
We Are That Family
Nominimalisthere.blogspot.com: Open-house-party 

Raising Homemakers: Homemaking-link-up