Garden Theology

The other day, while attempting to rip out weeds in our garden I began cutting back our enormous over-grown tomato plant, and the concept of the vine and the branches became clearer in such a tangible way.  I was cutting off the dead branches and the ones that looked scrawny so that the stronger branches could continue to grow and bear fruit.  It was almost a little funny how sensitive I was toward this tomato plant; plucking it’s little branches and cutting off the dead branches, and ripping a good portion of the plant out completely so that it could grow new, and into a healthier plant that might actually bear fruit.  I actually apologized to the plant out loud about what I was doing and told it that it will actually end up being so much better for it—I feel like this is what God is saying to me right now.  He is taking the bad parts out and cutting things off, and it might hurt for a short time, but it will be better in the long run.  Ultimately I just want to be a healthy plant that bears good fruit, even if it feels like the gardener is ripping parts out from me right now; He knows what He is doing. 

The analogy continues…  So far in this analogy we have, God the Gardener and me/us the over-grown non-producing tomato plant, who are we missing?  That’s right, the grasshopper.  The stubborn, hungry, selfish grasshopper/Satan.  Let me set this up for you:  There I am trimming back this plant, tugging, ripping, etc. and then out of the corner of my eye I see this dead, brown branch,…nope, it’s a grasshopper having his lunch.  I tried to shoo it away by shaking the plant some more, he didn’t budge.  I tried throwing empty plastic pots at it, I don’t even think I interrupted his chewing.  Three pots, and not even a taunting glance, argh!  I couldn’t kill it, nor would I know how for fear of it flying in my face, so I just let it be.  But Satan was totally embodied in that stubborn grasshopper, eating and gnawing away at you/me/the tomato plant, slowly eating away at the plant and is even more glued to and ready to pounce when the plant begins to bear fruit.  I hate grasshoppers.  And satan.