That doggone Pruning. Again. And What’s With the Darkness, Already?

2/17/97

The little angel Christmas pillow that we've had for years... I noticed for the first time she has green eyes and blonde hair and she looks up at one, with I don't know, sort of a pleading to be loved.

– How could I resist such a little green eyed girl?

How could I resist such a look,

such desire? –

even messed up?

– Even so... –

There is a little tear in her, which makes me feel sad that I haven't taken better care of her, but I guess I couldn't have - not if she was to fulfill her purpose as a child's comfort pillow.

You're saying something about You and me.

You have been on me powerfully these last two days and sometimes I have been barely here.

Please don't leave me?

– What is it she has in her hands? –   

A poinsettia. What is the legend of the poinsettia? What is it she brings to You?

– Herself. –

Okay... I think I remember something about part of the flower having crosses in it. The poinsettia is red, like the color of blood. The appearance of the flowers and the bright red and green foliage does not appear without a prolonged period of darkness preceded by a severe pruning.

There's something here I'm not quite getting. Help?

2/21 – Three days later.

The last three days have been horrible for me. Self hate has boiled like a cauldron.

Oh, Lord, I tried, but I so quickly feel betrayed by You. I wish I would get over that. I mean, it is stupid to think that way, and it isn't a very nice way for me to feel towards You.

– But you fought it, didn't you? –

Yes. I tried.

– That's all I ask. –

As I sit here and type about the angel, the obvious finally hits me. If she is bringing herself to You to give, and "herself" is a poinsettia – the fact is that she cannot "flower" into the beauty that was created into her without the pruning and the darkness. A poinsettia has to be cut back nearly to its roots, then shoved into absolute darkness so that is can bloom again – have the green bracts turn red.

Oh how I hate being pruned! And darkness, even like that of the last very few days is something I shrink from. You said that those vines that remain attached to You will bear fruit and that the Father will prune them so that they will be even more fruitful.

But, thank God, it doesn't last forever. Pruning and darkness are but for a season. If the poinsettia is not brought out into full sunlight at just the right time, it will die, and its blooms are lost forever.

  You are not in the business of losing Your people. Like a tender gardener, You bring us out into the glorious light once again, and we are enabled to grow into full bloom. At some level, this process must be ongoing. Poinsettias must be pruned yearly.

But – and here is another part of the glory of Your ways – by the time to prune has come, the plant has already grown into a bigger plant then it was before. And when it is brought out of its place of resting, it bursts forth into a glory that far exceeds what it had previously known.

That is Your promise to us. Not only will You refuse to throw us on the garbage heap just because we screech so loud at You at pruning time, You will prevent us from growing "smaller" with each pruning. We don't need to fear being reinstated to some “lesser place.” And beyond that, each time You bring us through, we will be more beautiful than before.