Christ, The True Vine

This week's lectionary text is John 15:1-8. 

I Am the True Vine, Jesus says.

Vines are plants that have a growth habit of trailing or climbing stems. While remaining rooted in the ground by the vine, the stems/branches are able to grow and expand over large areas very quickly. The vine itself is anchored in the roots, these serve as the conduit for nutrients to flow through the plant. The vine is also a storage reserve of energy for the branches as it grows and spreads. 

Jesus is the vine, the life-giving center. We are the branches. Only the branches that are connected to the vine are healthy and growing and have the chance to bear fruit. 

Jesus also says that his father is the vinedresser. God the Father sees those who are not bearing fruit and takes them away. Have you ever tried to clean up vines on any of your property? The stems and branches grow intertwined and different vines grow together. If you try to tear them out you end up with what seems like a never-ending tangle. It gets worse if you're actually trying to save some of the vines and clear out the rest! Where does one end and the other begin? Sometimes a branch on a vine can even be severed from the vine but it is caught in the other branches and looks like it is still attached until time goes by and you notice that it isn't flowering like the other branches and it's dying.

Often times people's lives can be like this. They can intertwine their lives with things that look like Christ. From a cursory glance they look to be planted on the vine. But it becomes obvious when the rest of the vine is beginning to show fruit that these other ones aren't connected to the life-source. Jesus says that the Father sees this and he takes these branches away and they are destroyed. There will be a time when they cannot hide in the appearance of being a Christ-follower and they will be removed.

You'd think that's maybe the end of the work for the vinedresser. He's removed the dead branches, his work must be done! But it's not. The branches without fruit aren't the only ones that require attention. Jesus says that branches that bear fruit are pruned, so that they can bear even more fruit. In this way, pruning isn't an act of discipline (as sometimes we are tempted to see it), so much as an act of cultivation. 

Grapevines usually only produce fruit on shoots that came from buds that were developed during the previous growing season. So, one of the principles behind pruning the previous years growth includes shoots that have turned hard and woody during the winter. These branches will be pruned either into a cane which will support 8 to 15 buds or to a smaller spur which holds 2 to 3 buds.

Just like the grapevine, we can't rely on past growth. We may look like we're growing to an untrained passerby but the Father, just like a trained gardener with a vine, sees what areas are unable to keep producing fruit and prunes it off.  We all have things in our lives that hinder our growth, things that God wants to prune. Sometimes it's outright sin. Sometimes it's just circumstances that might be clouding our vision or weighing us down.

I think sometimes there are seasons where the Lord prunes us down to a smaller spur (holding 2-3 buds). Maybe there is a whole lot in our lives than needs to go. I've had these seasons. It can feel like your whole world is coming apart, that you are losing things you didn't know you could possibly live without. You might even be tempted to question what in the world God was thinking allowing so much pain and loss. But it makes you cling to the True Vine and with all of the life-giving nutrients flooding into the concentrated area, soon new buds are forming.

Or maybe you're in a season where smaller and more precise cuts are needed and you are pruned into a cane (supporting 8-15 buds). But, even in seasons where the pruning is more limited and precise, it can be painful. It is the act of putting things to death in our lives that don't bear Christ-like fruit, which often can be as fun as it sounds!

But we are reminded over and over in Scripture that death brings life for those abiding in Christ. The good news is that even though this is hard, we are assured that while death for the branches that aren't connected to the vine is final, death for the branches that are part of the vine is an opportunity to display our resurrected life. Death for the resurrected isn't really death! And something I find encouraging from this image of the vine and branches is that when pruning is done correctly (as we know God always does) it actually has the ability to multiply the growth of that branch. It’s not that we just lose something and gain something in its place. Anything God prunes from our life will allow opportunity for even more fruit to grow than we were capable of before.

Being pruned is a necessary part of growth, but if we aren't also receiving life from the vine at all times, the potential for growth is lost. And so Jesus reminds us to abide in him...the True Vine...the life source. In fact Jesus makes a point about abiding in him 5 times in this very short passage. Almost to the point where I'm like, OK already, quit repeating yourself! Anyone who knows me knows that one of my pet peeves is the inefficiency of repetition--having to say it or hear it! But, Jesus doesn't repeat himself because he is inefficient. I think he repeats himself because he knows this is a concept that we have a hard time holding on to.

Intellectually it's not difficult to understand but it's so easy for us to lose sight of the bigger picture when life happens. And all of a sudden we aren't abiding in Christ—the vine— we're abiding in our own little branch. In times of pruning our fleshly reaction is to focus on the loss. It's easy to think, but, God, I had great plans to grow over in that direction, or, just give me a little more time, I planned to take care of that later. We focus on ourselves, defining ourselves by what we have or don't have and finding our self-worth in the way our branch used to be or the way we think it should be. When we SHOULD be focusing our energy on the vine, the place where our health and purpose flows from. When we focus on receiving Christ's life and energy and renewal in the things he has placed before us, exponential growth can happen. But this is something that doesn't come naturally to us, so we need to remind ourselves, sometimes every minute, to abide in Christ.

I know this is true for me. This is something I struggle with, even in this season of motherhood, and all the wonderful things that it brings, I still find myself focusing on the things God has pruned instead of the things that remain. I get caught up in the direction I thought I should have been growing. You know, the things I want to do in ministry or the way I want to be seen. Instead of looking to Christ in these times, I’m so guilty of focusing on my own little limb and the pruning shears that just lopped off something that was a little too dear to me and wailing WHHHYYYYYY???? When I find myself in these moments I need to remind myself AGAIN--abide in Christ.

While we are so inconsistent in living this out, Jesus is consistent on his end. He reminds us that when we abide in him, he abides in us. There is no question. We never have to worry that he won't provide everything we need to live fruitful lives with what remains. We only need to concern ourselves with remembering our place in the whole picture.

Jesus said I Am the True Vine. He is the source and life and purpose. We are the branches. When we draw our being from the Vine, we produce fruit in kind with the Vine. In all of the difficulties, challenges and complexities of life—it really is that simple. He is the vine. We are the branches.

When we abide in Him He will abide in us. And Jesus says we can be assured of two things when this happens: We will be known as his disciples and the Father will receive all the glory. And that’s really all my life should be about, reflecting Christ and bringing Glory to God.

Did You Ever Imagine?

Navigating our way through a sea of strollers after a long two days at the homeschool convention I looked at Andrew and said, "Did you ever imagine that one day you would be at a homeschool convention?"

I laughed when he said, "No way," because I felt the same way. I always loved having been homeschooled, but never thought I would pursue it with my own family. In my opinion, it just didn't suit my personality (most days, I am still of that opinion!), but a little over a year ago God started putting quiet and very obnoxious thoughts in my head that we should consider homeschooling. NOOOOOOO!

After a lot of prayer and discussion we decided to jump in and I was glad that I was jumping into the shallow end of the pool with Kindergarten since we were about to be parenting a newborn! We almost have a year under our belt and there have been a lot of overwhelming days. I still haven't figured out how to take care of an infant, do school, keep up with the laundry, and still be part of ministry without nearly losing my mind, but I suppose that's just life and motherhood, no matter what circumstances there are.

Yet, even with the hard days, there have been a lot of great things about homeschooling, things I was reminded of at the convention this weekend. It isn't a path for everyone and sometimes it can get a little lonely when you aren't surrounded with other people walking the same journey. It was great to be reminded of the reasons we have chosen to homeschool and be encouraged that we aren't alone in it! Here are a few reasons I was reminded of this weekend:

Homeschooling is a great way to practice discipleship with your kids. It certainly isn't the only way to do this but it does make it a little bit easier to be present for all the teachable moments in a day (even if sometimes the rate at which teachable moments come can make you want to lose your mind). The speakers and workshop leaders reminded us of this a lot this weekend. I really do love that we have the freedom to incorporate spiritual training, life experiences and ministry into our school day in ways that we wouldn't otherwise be able to. It's easy to lose sight of this when school is stuffed between loads of laundry and infant feedings, but it's there.

And then there is the fact that the homeschool community is family oriented. It isn't just family-friendly, it is shaped by and around families! There were kids everywhere at the conference. Babies were strapped on, slung on, and stuffed in carriers everywhere you turned. As a mom of an infant, who often is excluded from things because I have a baby in tow, it felt so nice to be a full member of the community. I've always loved that homeschooling is a diverse age environment, socialization isn't limited to peers.

Because of this, I love that everyone is a full member of the community in homeschooling. Youth were given important and visible roles in running the convention. Judah participated in the kid's program during the two days of the convention and the program was run almost entirely by 13-18 year olds (with 11 and 12 year-old helpers)! Youth also helped with conference registration and logistics, and introduced each workshop. The convention reminded me that children are capable of so much when we empower them along the way and walk along side them.

At the end of the conference, the kid's program did a presentation for the parents of the things they had been learning and doing. I was amazed at the how many verses and songs they had learned. Of course, my child was only singing and signing when he wasn't being distracted by the waving arms of his neighbors or when his mouth didn't need to be a beat box or when he wasn't practicing his disdain for personal space with the other children's faces, so who knows what he learned, but still.

As I watched the presentation and all these things were running through my mind I was so grateful for the opportunity to do this. Who knows what the future will hold or where and how the Lord will lead our family, but I tried to let go of the feelings of being overwhelmed and embrace gratefulness. Because, even though my wiggly, beat-boxing, six year old makes me want to tear my hair out, and finding just the right curriculum and figuring out lessons plans makes me crazy, it really is a blessing to be able to do what we are doing.

For however long this season is for our family, I am grateful that life doesn't always (if ever) turn out like you expect it to. For example, you might find yourself exhaustedly wading through a sea of strollers, laden down with babies and books at a homeschool convention...crazier things have happened.

Judah was so excited to meet Mr. Demme, the creator and instructor of Math U See (Judah's math curriculum).

This kid was a champ for two days straight...he needed to join some of the other babies and stretch out from time in his carrier!

Terrible quality photo, but we actually caught him doing some of the hand motions to the songs!

What the City is Teaching Me about Lent

Lent gives us an opportunity to refocus our lives as followers of Christ. It beckons us to once again be intentional about walking with Christ and to continually sacrifice ourselves and our earthly belongings on the alter before Him so that we may know even greater victory through His life.

Traditionally, for many of us, this includes the discipline of being without. We give up something that takes up a lot of our time and our passion, or something that offers us particular comfort. We fast from meat, or chocolate, or Facebook, or television and pour the time and passion gained from going without these things more intentionally into Christ. These can be beneficial sacrifices, and the Spirit can work mightily through these disciplines, but, too often, in our lives of excess and plenty, we relegate these lessons of dependence on and lowliness before Christ to this one season.

Lent isn't just a season, it is an attitude of frailty before our all-powerful King. It is the anticipation of His love and mercy to bring victory to our brokenness. Believers in the city, who know what it means to be be without, understand this in a deep way.

In a Lenten devotional called Journey to the Cross it says that during Lent "We want to shake up our lives significantly enough that when we reach out for our usual comforts and grasp a fistful of air, we are forced to cling to Christ." This describes life in the city for believers. It isn't something they have to do intentionally in the forty days before Easter, it is lived every day.

Life is chaotic in the city. Lives are shaken and comforts stripped away. Yet, it is here that I have seen some of the bravest examples of hands, that would otherwise be "grasping a fistful of air," clinging to beloved Jesus.

Have you ever thanked God just for waking you up? Over and over I have heard believers in the city utter this prayer and it humbles me every time. It comes from a heart of gratitude, humility, and trust. I have watched men and women trust God to make up the difference in their bank account when bills are due and understand deeply that they will surely turn back to alcohol or drugs or broken relationships if not for the saving power of their Messiah.

A Lenten heart realizes it was not awoken by its own power or for its own purposes. It recognizes its own frailty and, yet, boldly and prophetically declares the victory of Christ in all seasons, especially in times of want and need and brokenness. My experiences and friendships in the city these nine years have taught me so much about what it means to have a Lenten heart.

I have seen these Lenten hearts at work in the city -- grandmas raising their precious grandbabies on little energy and less money, friends wrapping loving arms around the mother of a child lost to violence, neighbors sharing a sparse pantry with a person in need, brothers declaring victory over addiction to a new believer -- they are emptied of self and worldly comforts, but full of trust in and anticipation for our victorious King.

May all of our hearts this season be awakened to this truth.

Reborn to Fight for Freedom

Today I am grateful for the unique way that the Body of Christ has fought, and continues to fight, for freedom. I am thankful for the men and women of God throughout the years who have stood on the knowledge that we are all imprisoned in our humanness until Jesus set us free, and let that knowledge embolden them to do courageous things for Christ.

Today I want to take a moment to be thankful for those who have fought against oppression and prejudice, and to be challenged by their bravery.

Because men and women stood with Christ in the gap of injustice, my family was made possible.

Because men and women spoke out against mockery. slurs, and character assassination because of the color of someone' skin, my sons can be assured of their worth to one another, to our family, and to Christ.

Because men and women climbed on buses and endured brutal beatings to stand for equality, my family can grow in the comfort of our love for one another.

Because men and women chose non-violence as a way to embody the sacrificial love of Christ for ALL people, my sons will walk through life, hand-in-hand, as brothers.

Because men and women, like Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., lived out the truth that "greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends (Jn. 15:13)," my family lives securely.

Because of the imperfect but bold faith of men and women like Dr. King, my sons know that they don't have to be perfect in order for Jesus to use them mightily for His Kingdom.

I am grateful for the victories won over injustice, but the fight must continue. As the Body of Christ, we must continue to stand in the gap for those who still feel the sting of prejudice and the oppression of injustice and poverty. There is not a gender, race, or socio-economic class that is outside the loving reach of Christ's victory and freedom...this is why we preach the Gospel to all people (and most importantly to ourselves). This is what we must live out, even on the hard days, even when the fight asks everything of us.

As people of Christ we were reborn to fight for freedom, serving the One who has all the victory. Jesus laid down his life so that we may be reconciled to God and set free from the oppression of our sin.

Church, let us stand with Christ and the men and women who make up our rich heritage, and boldly declare through our words and actions that we are a people of liberty and of life. Run to those who are suffering and perishing with the open arms of Christ. Live as living sacrifices, as those who have sacrificed before us, so that all people can know the freedom and security that we know through our Savior.

A Month of Josiah

One month ago from now I was puking my guts out from all the anesthesia I'd had on an empty stomach and I was completely over the phrase "You'll just feel some pressure." Ironically, the only person who wasn't lying when they said that phrase was the lady who put the giant epidural needle in my spine...but I digress.

A few hours before that, and 22 hours after the whole saga began, we finally got to meet our brand new and not at all tiny son, Josiah. Twelve days past his due date, Josiah (then still fondly referred to as "Tater Tot") was in no hurry to make an entrance. Hours of really fun and very unproductive procedures had only gotten me 4 cm dilated. Then, at about four o'clock I was dosing in and out while we were waiting on the doctor to discuss our options when nurses suddenly came running through the door. The baby's heart rate had dropped for the second time and a few frantic minutes later they were rushing me down the hall for an emergency c-section, leaving Andrew alone in our room.

Those few minutes were terrifying and confusing as I lay paralyzed on an operating table with medical staff running all around me. But, our hurried prayers were answered when they got the baby's heart monitor hooked back up and his heart rate was normal again and the medical staff were able to slow down and wait for my doctor to arrive. Andrew was broughtinto the room then and we decided to proceed with the c-section anyway.

Andrew said it looked like they were trying to wrestle a hog pulling him out. Then we heard, "He's huge!," "Big boy!," "Is that a toddler?" They pulled down the sterile sheet so that I could see my doctor holding up our son. There he was, a giant red baby with arms and legs hanging like long monkey limbs and the hands and feet of a two-year-old. I saw him and thought, "That weird looking kid is mine. How strange." Then they put him on the scale, 11.03 blinked and held, and I thanked the Lord for c-sections! They handed him to Andrew and we stared at his chunky face that looked just like my baby pictures and it still felt surreal. There he was, baby Josiah.

A few hours later Andrew brought Judah into the hospital room, he had a bouquet of flowers, some pictures he had drawn, and wore a sweet, excited, almost embarrassed, smile as he met his little brother for the first time. We told him his new brother's name was Josiah Malaki, which means "The Lord helps," and "My Messenger." This was the little brother Judah had waited months for and it was love at first sight.

Life's been a blur ever since. It seems like it's been forever since our family went from three to four and yet it went by in a flash. Life is slowly beginning to stop its reeling. Today I forged through two giant piles of revolving laundry that have been permanent fixtures for the last few weeks. Some days we're getting a rhythm back to our school days. We're starting to get the hang of scheduling everything around feedings and learning to plan an extra hour to get out of the house on account of the blowouts and peeing all over the couch and the outfit changes.

As someone who tends to focus on the future and try to get through difficult seasons by relentlessly attacking problems with possible solutions, I'm trying to learn to live in the moment. I've been forced to slow down on life that does not involve breastfeeding and diaper changing and teaching a Kindergartner math. I'm trying to remind myself that these moments will go by quickly and neither of my boys will be little and needy forever.

A month of Josiah has brought a lot less sleep and an appalling amount of money spent on diapers. It has also brought laughs and fat baby cheek snuggles and sweet big brother kisses. It has brought tears (the good and the bad kind) and joy. Tonight Judah prayed for Josiah to grow up to be a great man of God, to love him and serve him, and I echoed his sweet and tender prayer for both our amazing boys.

I Have Two Sons

I have two sons. One son was brought into our family through adoption, the other will join our family by birth in a few weeks.

These boys will share so many things: a crazy family that loves them, a room, an identity as missionary kids, inside jokes, vacations, but one thing they will never share is the color of their skin and the things they encounter in the world because of it. I pray they will understand one another and stand by each other in the face of these experiences, but particularly when it comes to being a person of color in our society, one will experience it by proxy and the other will experience it personally.

As a mother of a black son I dread this truth. Several years ago we visited a civil rights museum and I stood in front of a blown-up image of an African-American student in Little Rock, Arkansas, walking to school after desegregation. Behind her is an angry mass of white faces and I stood transfixed with horror at one woman's face, her mouth open wide, expelling hateful words, brows furrowed with determined fury. In my mind, suddenly the young black girl she was screaming at was my son and I had to hold back the tears as I thought about someone spewing such hatred all over him, merely because of the color of his skin. I thought, for the first time, what it is like to be the mother of a black child. The helpless feelings of sorrow and anger at the injustices, and even dangers, your children face. I felt them too as I stared at that photo.

Today it is unlikely my son will be followed down the street being hatefully screamed at, but he will experience many subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) acts of racism, people and systems that consistently make him question his value as a young black man. In the face of current events my heart is heavy with the pain and anger and confusion that still makes up the issue of racial injustice in our cities.

Whether some people want to admit it or not, the reality is that if both my sons decide not to walk with the Lord and make terrible moral and legal choices in life, one will most likely be given the benefit of the doubt and every opportunity to change, and the other will likely be labeled and dismissed. One might get community service and the other prison time. One might be pepper-sprayed and the other shot. It is so much less personal to think about this truth in light of differing communities, but having that divide present under my own roof makes it a more intimate pain.

As I have watched the events of Ferguson, Missouri, unfold and witnessed the frenzy of angry and unloving words unleashed in the world of social media, I find myself deeply troubled...both as a mother of a black son and as a Christian. The incident that touched off the eruption is not 100% clear, the diluted messages coming from within the community makes it difficult to hear the truths being spoken, and the aggressive and uncompassionate backlash from those watching widens the chasm between people.

Facts and law are not unimportant to the Lord, but if that was all He looked at we would all find ourselves condemned. The facts and laws involved in these current events are important but they do not tell the whole story. We, as the Church, have the opportunity to reclaim the story that is unfolding for the Kingdom. Redemption and transformation won't come from the law or from being right; it will come from the power of grace changing hearts. And, no matter how impossible a task this seems to be at the moment, Christ makes all things possible in Him. Standing hand-in-hand with brothers and sisters in Christ from different backgrounds and with different opinions is made possible because we are one family in Him.

Many Christians seem to be abdicating their role to stand for justice because they see a lack of clear and "practical" steps to be taken. I certainly do not have all the answers about what has to be done, but I know Someone who does. And, I know a good place to start is in humility. Jesus Christ stood silent in the face of his opponents, an extra act of sacrifice as He went to the cross for them. Can we, as His Body, not find it in ourselves to listen more than we speak, to be slow to anger, and quick to love? Can we lay down our literal and metaphorical weapons and reach for someone's hand instead? Perhaps it will be in these moments of self-sacrificing humility and in a quiet affirmation of people's value to the Kingdom that God will make the next steps clear.

I have two sons and God breathed life equally into each. They will stand hand-in-hand because they know they are of the same family...even when the tough times come because that is what brothers do. I pray that we may do the same as the family of God.

Time is a Gigantic Freight Train

Time. How can something that passes objectively at the same, steady pace be experienced so subjectively? In some seasons time seems to elongate. It stretches and sags in the middle like salt water taffy on a pulling machine. And then in other seasons time seems to barrel toward you like an ominous and gigantic freight train.

I have to admit that as I get older I have more of the latter experiences than the first, but right now I am most definitely finding myself playing chicken with the freight train of time. And, it is sort of freaking me out.

Our family is awaiting some major life changes in the next few months, ones that require a great deal of physical, emotional, and mental preparation. They are exciting changes but, as with any major transitions, they require a lot of work...and if you are a worrying planner like myself, they also consume a great deal of soul-energy.

Homeschooling. Some days I just wonder what I am thinking! School starts sooner than I would like to admit and with everything else that has been going on this summer, I am just now getting the details nailed down. I'm buying curriculum and trying to figure out a good planning method and I can't seem to think clearly with the light of a freight train flooding my eyes! I know that God led us to this decision, for at least this season in our lives, but God's leadings tend to take us straight outside of our comfort zones.

Baby. AHHH! We're having a baby in two and a half months. It still seems sort of surreal, except that we have a crib and I have a little human kung fooing around in my uterus. But, two and a half months? We don't have a name picked out yet! That might not bother some people (ahem, Andrew!), but I like to feel like I have a little cushion of time before deadlines and there isn't one blasted name on our list of potentials that I feel at home with yet. And, it feels like such a very big deal to name a human!! We've got classes to take and stuff to buy and life as we know it to kiss goodbye...in only two and a half months.

Judah. My crazy nut of an only child. It's just two and a half months until our family isn't a family of three but of four! I'm not an overly emotional person but for some reason it's hitting me really hard (we'll blame it on the pregnancy hormones). It's just been the three of us for nearly three years now and it's hard to imagine life where Judah isn't Daddy's only buddy and Mama's only favorite boy. Intellectually you know that it all just works itself out, that somehow God arranges it so you think two (or three, or four, or five, if you are so inclined) little humans are the most amazing people on the face of the earth, but your heart has trouble believing it before it happens. The dreaded and mostly irrational Mom-guilt has started to set in as I know more of my time will be directed away from Judah and I frantically want to somehow slow down the rushing of time to cherish these last months with only him. The two-year anniversary of our forever day with him is coming up and the topic of adoption makes my Mom-guilt all the more acute as we prepare to toss another major life-transition onto a five-year-old who has already seen too many. I trust that this change will bless beyond all of our expectations, but I also know that it will add to the list of things he will have to wrestle through as he processes adoption as part of his story.

If I wasn't already exhausted from growing a little human inside of me 24 hours a day, all the soul-energy I've been expending on these things has left me totally worn out. I've found myself succumbing to a paralyzed fear as I stare down the tracks of time and see the inevitability of change. When I do try to figure out the details a sense of dread sweeps over me, mostly eclipsing the joy that is awaiting us on this journey. It's time to change that because, no matter what awaits us, God is good and He has filled our lives with blessings. (I wouldn't mind if time would ease up a bit though!!)