The Branch and the Vine

Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me.

John 15:4

I have spent the past 23 days by the side of my child who is suffering indescribable pain I cannot take away. I have wrestled with God and asked hard questions. It is difficult to express in words such intimate moments between the beloved and her Lord. So I offer this humble allegory in the hope it might offer strength to another who dares wrestle and ask the hard questions, the impossible ones, the ones that have no answer this side of heaven.

Last night the branch tried to sever herself from the Vine. She no longer wanted to be so attached, dependent upon One who had taken His knife and pruned her young, beautiful blossoms. She was angry and bewildered, not sure if she could trust the Vine from whom her life pulsed. She pondered life apart from Him and was enticed by the inertia and flaccidity of quitting.

There are times in our lives when we are not sure we can trust God. #faith #suffering Share on X

She strained and wept, pulled and tugged, tried to wrench herself away. But she could not. Her heart and His were one and could not be separated. Over many long, dark nights and through countless raging storms, their fibers had wound together in an inseparable bond. Their strength together was greater than her strength alone. His strength held her tight when her weakness made her tremble. 

God's strength holds us together when life would rip us apart. #faith #suffering Share on X

She found in the end that she could not sever herself from He who gave her life. He could be trusted, and she would wait for Him through the pain.

This realization brought her relief. She was exhausted. She was held.

The morning dawned on the branch at rest once again. Abiding, trusting that even as she lay still new life was being sent from the Vine, rushing through her inmost parts, doing the unseen, preliminary work required before new life can be seen or felt.

There is a work that lies hidden, unfelt, unseen, for a time. And only when that work reaches its completion can the bud burst through the woody stalk with its swelling promise of new growth. 

The branch lay still in hope. Hope that the work might reach its completion soon.

Lord, do your work in me as I abide in You. Amen.

@audreycfrank