He Has Not Given Us Over To Death

 

I saw it when we came home from our short vacation up north last month.
And my heart sank.
I’d worked so hard on those flowers.
And most of them still looked vibrant. And beautiful. And thriving.
But there were 2 that were “actively dying.”

I attempted everything I knew.

I watered them more.
I added fertilizer more.
I trimmed away the dead leaves more.

But no matter what I did, they wouldn’t return.

My farming family would know what to do.
And in what seemed like a last-ditch effort, I reached out to them for advice.

“I’m giving up on them”, I’d say to my friend.
“I’m just giving up. There is no use saving them.”

But she begged me to stay the course.
“They are NOT dead yet”, she’d lovingly tell me.
“Just do what I say, and watch them return!”

“Cut them all back. WAY back!”
It was my only hope.
I knew she was right.
But pruning nearly everything - even that which seemed to still have a smidge of life in it - seemed unbearable. Counterproductive. Absurd!

Wouldn’t it be like starting over?

Yes it would.
And it is.
But it’s necessary.
The dead things have to go.

She would explain that in the current condition of the plant, too much effort is being put into producing healthy long, beautiful branches, when instead, attention needed to be focused on the health of the root.

She’d gently explain to this horticulture-novice, that I would be re-directing the flower’s concentration to what was most needed in this time of crisis. And sometimes radical pruning is necessary in order to stimulate growth and inspire vitalization.

Ahh yes.

And in that moment I understood something far greater than plants and flowers and agriculture.

Just like that dead, dried up, sickly flower arrangement needed tender-loving care from it’s gardener, I, too, need the same gentle, yet firm supervision and preservation from my Gardener.

And sometimes the scalpel is needed for the pruning.

And while painful, it’s necessary if fullness of life is the desire of a soul.

I saw it in the Psalm I just “happened” to be reading the day my sweet friend reminded me to prune back what I already knew I needed to do.

Psalm 118:17, “I will not die; instead I will live to tell what the Lord has done.”

And this after great suffering at the hands of wild enemies.
Suffering not caused by God, but allowed by God.
And always for the reason of making us better. (Rom 8:28)

And in the very next verse I see it. Verse 18 of that 118th Psalm. “But He has not given me over to death.”

He has not given me over to death.
By allowing the blade to cut He makes me better.
Because new life is produced from gentle slices that trim the unnecessary decay from the one who belongs to Jesus.

He has not given me over to death.
Because in His mercy that stems from His Fatherly love, he amputates in order to remove that which would ultimately cause an unavoidable catastrophe.

And He cares too much for me to let that happen.

It is true that we wouldn’t bother pruning that which we mean to uproot.
The vine we consider worthy and of precious value is the one we lovingly and graciously trim to activate growth. To awaken from sleep. To quicken to life!

What joy!
What divine reassurance!
He has not given me over to death!

As long as He holds the knife - I am actively pursued and deeply loved.
As long as His blade makes perforations that expose areas of corrosion that need concentrated care - I have reason for hope and gladness.

He has not given me over to death.

Ahh… He cared enough to not say, “I give up on this one.”
By any unwillingness to wield a sickle I might believe the lie that I am not worthy of being reclaimed.

And I am.
And so is this plant which I will love and nurture and restore to fullness of life.