Cut It Out: How can we walk out God’s good plans when our foot is caught in a web of destruction?

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

—John 15:1-2

“Oh, no!” I gasped when I caught sight of my beloved lilac bush covered with webs. “The webworms are taking over,” I groaned. Already they had consumed my black walnut tree and another at the edge of the pasture. Why did they have to choose my lilac to chew on next?

Lilacs are special to me, a sweet reminder of my loving grandmother, who shared my childhood home. Her lilac bush graced the corner of our screened back porch and bloomed just once a year, in April, her birth month. I can still see the lavender-colored cuttings arranged in a Mason jar in the center of the kitchen table. The fragrant aroma filled the room like the presence of Grandmama's gentle spirit.

Now the insects had draped their deadly cloaks over my lilac bush, covering it from top to bottom, killing every green leaf and causing sadness to drape over me at the mere thought of my lilac never returning.

Was there anything I could do? The niggling thought plagued me each time I rounded the corner of my house. Nah, it’s hopeless, I returned.

Apparently, the unsightly webs also caught the attention of my parents each time they passed by. One day last month, I came home from work a few hours early and surprised them as they were trying to surprise me. There was my father, standing next to the bush with pruning shears in hand.

“Something has to be done,” my mother admitted when I approached them.

I agreed. But I couldn’t help but wonder if my father’s efforts were fruitless, as he clipped away at the lilac bush, throwing the dead branches onto the back of his pick-up truck.

Would the bush come back to life in the spring?

This situation reminded me of other life situations that appear hopeless. The cloak of addiction, the all-consuming web of anxiety, fear, and stinkin' thinkin', the ashes of a wrecked relationship.

Something has to be done.

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:10).

But the enemy wants to thwart God’s plans. He will wiggle his way into our lives like a webworm and latch onto any branch he can get a foothold on. This makes it difficult for us to walk out God’s good plans when our foot is caught up in the webs. We find ourselves spending all our energy, gasping for air, flailing our arms, trying to break free from the suffocating cloak of destruction.

We are not without hope. We can come boldly to our Creator to find help in our time of need (Hebrews 4:16). We can follow King David’s lead and submit ourselves to God, asking Him to examine our lives to determine if we have any fault in the matter (Psalm 139:23-24). And no matter how His answer comes, whether through the words of a loving friend or family member who says, “Something has to be done,” or through His own still, small voice, we must be willing to repent and submit to His pruning. Allow Him to remove any offensive ways, those dead branches that suck all our energy.

Jesus said, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful (John 15:1-2).”

Pruning hurts. But pruning bears fruit. Pruning gives life.

Early Saturday morning, I stepped out onto the steps of the screened porch to breathe in the fresh air, but soon turned to grab my camera to capture some of God’s workmanship. A fiery canna lily, a scarlet geranium, a pink powder-puff zinnia, and a group of smiling daisies. Then I rounded the corner.

“Lilacs! Blooming in mid-October! Who ever heard of such a thing!”

Only the Lord who made the heavens and the earth. Nothing is too hard for Him (Jeremiah 32:17). His pruning cuts out cravings for worthless things and replaces them with a longing for Him. He cuts out anxiety, fear and stinkin' thinkin' and replaces them with power, love, and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). He brings beauty from ashes (Isaiah 61:3) and lilacs from webs. Whatever you need pruned, He’s standing nearby, pruning shears in hand.

Your hope is right around the corner.

Abba Father, thank You for reminding me that regular maintenance, like pretreating shrubbery and personal examination and prayer, is better than a mess later. Even so, I am not without hope. You hear me when I call and surprise me with the impossible. You create a message from a mess and empower me to spread Your good news like a fragrant aroma (2 Corinthians 2:15). I love You.