The Tender Plant—Isaiah 53:2

 I walked down the road on this beautiful, sunny, winter morning. The tree branches swayed in the breeze–empty and barren. While I see the green of grass, it's struggling to maintain its vibrance in this cold, dry season. As I look around, I see clear signs of winter—even though we don't often see snow. The squirrels are busy collecting things that have fallen from the trees and lay waiting for their consumption. The deer are on the prowl looking for something to eat and finding alternatives to fresh greenery, plucking dried looking leaves from low shrubbery. While the sun is bright, there is a lack of color.

In just a few weeks, my region of the world will begin to come alive. Buds will form on the trees, shrubbery will begin filling in, and lawns will begin to take on their fresh look of emerald green. Life takes on the colors of green—a deep, pleasing green as plant after plant sprout forth tender, new shoots. These are the thoughts that crowded my mind as I walked this morning, longing for spring and the warmth of sunshine on my face. But what quickly came to mind was another Tender Plant—the One we read of in Isaiah 53:2:

For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, And as a root out of the dry ground (KJV) :

There is something so pleasing about a tender plant—soft, new and fragile. It's most vulnerable in this stage of newness and needs care for it to thrive and grow hearty. To think of our Messiah as this tender plant brought many thoughts to mind. I appreciated this quote from Wayne Jackson for christiancourier.com:

 "a “tender plant,” attempting to survive in “dry ground” seems like an unlikely situation. In reality, however, such was by divine design! The text is intended to emphasize that what appears impossible with men, certainly is not with God."

We can appreciate that our tender plant—Jesus, did in fact thrive and grow and complete the mission God sent Him to accomplish. How about us? As new believers, we also were tender plants—plants that needed intentional nutrients in order for growth, maturity and completing the purpose God has for each of us. Pouring in God's Word, prayer, fellowship with other Christians, using our gifts for the benefit of our local church, humble service and obedience to His leading help us to grow and mature. But I love the thought that while we are growing and maturing, we still want to remain tender—pliable to His molding and shaping.

In my area of the world, August is generally a dry month. The once tender plants of spring are now deprived of water and scorched from the heat of summer. They are no longer a vibrant green, they are more of a yellowish-brown. Brittle to the touch, they easily break from the summertime conditions of the South. I see lessons in this, too—that the pressures and temptations of this world can harden us. While there is goodness to a hearty plant, a plant that is dried up of needed nutrients is on the brink of death. We want to remain rooted in Christ—the only sure way to stay thriving and tender in the harshness of a sinful world. 

Maybe you're also in a place where you're longing for spring. Winter—while it has its own unique beauty—can seem long and at times, dreary. But God is faithful and the seasons will change as they do each year, cycling from spring to summer, then fall and winter. But no matter what life season you may be in, may each of us remain tender—unchanged by the harsh realities of the world. May we, like Jesus, remain rooted in the Father, seeking to complete the mission He has for each of us. May we stay strong and connected, allowing Him to work in us, and through us. And may we enjoy the blessings of each lesson learned—even those that caused us pain. May we be known by others as being tender, faithful, and actively thriving in the work God has for us. 

Lessons from Mistletoe

 What comes to mind when you think of mistletoe? It's likely your thoughts are  linked to a Christmastime tradition—a small section of greenery that's known as a kissing plant. Whoever passes beneath the mistletoe at the same time is supposed to kiss one another. It's a fun tradition (mostly) and one enjoyed during the holiday season. But mistletoe isn't just for Christmas, and it may surprise you to find out that it's a plant considered to be a parasite. Yep—that pretty bunch of greenery with white berries is a parasitic plant.

One day in November of last year, my husband and I were playing around in the front yard with our puppy when he noticed a new growth on our pear tree. He recognized it right away as mistletoe, grafted into the branch of our Bradford pear. I had never seen that before on the trees on our property, and it was discovered that two of our trees had a rogue growth of mistletoe. This encouraged me to read up on this plant and do a little research—having a landscaping business, it's great to know about these things. What I discovered had an astounding lesson—a great lesson for us as Christians. 

Mistletoe finds its way to a host tree from a bird who carries the seed of the plant after enjoying their white berries. Gross as it sounds, a bird passes the seed through droppings in the safety of the tree branch. As that seed lays, it may or may not grow and attach itself to the new tree. If conditions are ripe for the seed, it will successfully germinate and penetrate the bark of the host tree. As it grows, it steals nutrients from its host plant. While mistletoe grows relatively slow, over time, the host tree will be deprived of essential nutrients and loses its health.

Mistletoe must be removed completely from its host, or it will eventually destroy the tree it's attached to. The only effective way to remove it is to cut away the affected branch—cutting it off at least 12" under its attachment. Pulling away the mistletoe without taking the necessary steps will not destroy the parasite and regrowth can be expected. Now think about the lessons this plant can teach us as it pertains to sin.

Just like mistletoe, sin can destroy our "tree" if precautions are not taken. While we all deal with the daily wrestlings against temptation and sin, some are allowed to take root in our lives and while it's a seemingly slow process, Satan uses his  resourcefulness to allow that sin to penetrate us and slowly dismantle our testimony for Christ. He may whisper that it's okay—normal—and no big deal. And so it grows and removes the nutrients from our spiritual healthiness. It's in essence, a parasite of the worst kind.

Because of the prevalence of sin, we often become quite numb to its presence in our lives. I know I don't "examine myself" as we read about in the New Testament, as often as I should. And even when I do, I often fail to recognize the sneaky ways Satan filters into my mind with prideful thoughts and a need for control. If I don't realize its grip on me, that parasite grows and grows. The only way to remove it successfully is to remove it completely and allow Jesus to wash me clean. 

As my son sawed off the two branches with mistletoe growths, my heart was reminded of the need to purge sin from my own life at its root. If I fail to, it will grow and begin to take over the health of my "tree". I'll never look at mistletoe the same way again, and honestly, I think it's another amazing reminder from creation that teaches us godly principles and demonstrates our need for rescue from a holy God. 

May we be ever mindful of those seeds that come in the form of temptation—words we want to say, and things we want to do and filter them through what Scripture teaches us. Will they honor God, or will they take root and bring about spiritual decay or ruin that will bring dishonor to God? May we carefully guard our testimonies and prune any root of sin that we've allowed to germinate in our hearts and minds. 

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9, ESV).

Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit (John 15:2, ESV).