Fruitless Growth
Recently I chose to transplant my strawberry plants after they only produced two strawberries in their current partially shaded garden bed over the past three months.
I did not realize how challenging this would be for my plants to survive. My strawberry plants looked great, with lots of vines, lush and green but no fruit before I transplanted them. Then, when I uprooted them, preserving as many roots as possible, most of the luscious vines withered and needed to be cut back for the plant to survive because of the shocked roots.
My husband, Michael, and I wondered for a good week or two if they would survive the move even though we did everything pro gardeners recommended. The other day, Michael, who so sweetly waters my garden most days, told me there was new growth from the strawberry plants.
My strawberry incident got me thinking of how we react when God uproots us, naturally or spiritually, out of what looks like a good situation with little fruit. At first, we freak out; we flounder even because it's so uncomfortable being in the unfamiliar, the unknown.
Much of how we lived before has to die to allow our roots to grow deeper into Him.
Only when we dig deeper in these moments, do we find the strength and grace to grow in the way God intended. Right now, I can relate to my strawberries on a deep level. I feel God is pulling me out of years of living based on what I do and trying to prove myself to everyone, including Him. I have lived so much of my life enslaved to this performance-driven lifestyle. I've done things that many were shocked were possible, but I thought were normal. Many overachievers in the world celebrate this lifestyle I have lived, so it's been hard to cut myself off from all the accolades.
To share an example for reference, I decided at 17 that I wanted to go to a leadership ministry college in Australia. I lived in a small town in Arkansas at the time, where not many traveled but I felt convicted to go. My parents agreed as long as I saved enough money for a full year of living expenses and tuition. I accepted this, worked 12-14 hour shifts six days a week for seven months, and somehow miraculously saved and received donations for the equivalent of $20,000. I ended up living there for three years, and God miraculously provided for me each year after the initial year, and that's another blog worth of testimonies to God's grace and faithfulness. This drivenness is not all bad, is my point. I impressed and inspired a lot of people with this determination.
The problem was not that I was determined but that it came from a root of brokenness that told me I had to be the best, do something extraordinary, and constantly push myself to be enough or even to be loved.
Like my strawberry plant, I grew many luscious fruitless vines with very little fruit to show for all the "growth."
Over recent years, God has been slowly uprooting me from this way of thinking to rely on Him more and live from a place of being loved and accepted. I am learning to live from a place of rest.
I seriously need God to transform my mind for this to happen because I'm wired to push through and make whatever needs to happen happen. I often feel frustrated from my lack of fruit or even "fake fruitfulness," but just like my transplanted strawberry plant, He is growing something better from me in this better place to depend on Him more.
It's beautiful to need Him and even more beautiful to realize we need our Savior, our Friend, our Teacher, our Father, the Lover of our souls.
I encourage you to join me in this journey toward wholeness, realizing our desperate need for our Savior and Friend, Jesus, and His life-giving Holy Spirit. Let Him do His work of purifying our hearts, helping us look more like Jesus moment by moment.
