Suffering And Pain: Unexpected UnhurrySample

Painful Pruning, Abundant Fruit

The previous residents of a house we once rented left us some very tall rosebushes. Their theory of rose cultivation was “bigger is better,” so I assumed we’d have an amazing display come spring. 

When spring came, however, not one of those bushes had ten roses the whole season. Those poor rosebushes were so busy trying to keep all their many branches alive that they didn’t have anything left for producing roses. 

So the next winter, I went out to the front yard with a pair of pruning shears. I soon had a dumpster full of rose branches—and a garden with only a few sticks coming out of the dirt here and there. No leaves. And definitely no roses. 

But come spring, the pruning yielded incredible beauty. The quality and quantity of the roses we enjoyed were beyond description.

Even today this memory reinforces for me an important truth about spiritual growth. You see, I want my spiritual life to unfold like this: I go to God, I grow, I become more and more fruitful, and I keep feeling fruitful every day of my life. Although I know that only with the Gardener’s shears will my life be as fruitful as I want it to be, I don’t factor in or even want to think much about the pruning that will be necessary along the way. Do you see the irony? Only with pruning will I experience the spiritual fruitfulness I pray for. 

Through the years I’ve asked God to help me abide deeply in Christ, grow to maturity in him, and be fruitful for his kingdom. But I rarely recognize God’s answers to these prayers. That’s because the answers I had imagined look so different from God’s wise responses. I’m tempted to believe, for example, that as I abide in Christ, God will always feel close, and I will always feel certain about my faith. I have learned, though, that pruning experiences cause me to feel less fruitful—if not fruitless—for a season. Even in those times of painful pruning, I find in our rosebushes the vivid reminder that greater fruit will result.

Thank you, Creator God, for enabling roses to proclaim such an important spiritual truth to me: radical pruning means glorious fruit for the rosebush and for me. Please keep me mindful of your promise whenever you wield your shears.

From An Unhurried Life by Alan Fadling