The Pruning: Beginning...

During our drive home for Christmas, Chris and I started talking about our life over the past several years.  Talked about his job.  He dreams for the future.  Our kids and our hopes for their future.  Talked about my dreams and bless him, Chris is always nothing but crazy supportive and encouraging.  We talked about our church and our small group.  The community of people in our lives both in and outside of church.

And what we discovered through all that talking was we were beyond blessed in oh so many ways.  God has given us two amazing children, a wonderful house, a job for Chris that has kept him challenged and fulfilled, exciting dreams for me and oh so much anticipation for the future and a church home with a vision and message that so very literally changed our lives.  

However, as we talked about the people in our lives, we realized we knew very few.  Within our church community, we knew six couples.

Six.

Now, we were defining "knew" as people we felt we were in some sort of relationship with.  Not just people we'd met at one point, could shake hands with them on Sunday but really knew little about them and their lives.  We defined "knew" as people who knew us, our kids, our overall story and visa versa.

But...out of those six couples, we were not sure we could call any of them if there were an emergency.   Various reasons for that and believe me, it isn't because they wouldn't help.  It's more about being able.  Or even being aware of our needs.  Really, we weren't even sure we could call any of them for an adult night out.  Crazy stuff like going to dinner or having them over for game night.  Again, various reasons for that. 

Honestly, we were feeling very isolated.  

About a year ago, the small group we hosted started falling apart.  Again, and I realize I'm saying this a lot but it's true, various reasons for that and (also saying this a lot) believe me when I say, not bad reasons at all.  Life is busy.  Life is complicated.  Life is promised to have struggles.  We started praying for the group to grow, for the house to be filled and continued to meet and love on the people who could still come and those who were unable to attend.

By the fall, it was clear the group was hanging on by a thin thread.  We met with our groups pastor at church and we agreed to give it a little more time before closing the group and finding a new group to join.  A few months later, we met again and I really felt, at that time, we should continue serving the few people we did have.  I felt God had released us from carrying the burden of growing the group.  I assumed He would grow it. 

Only it didn't grow.

So when the new year rolled around, it was pretty clear we needed to let the group go.  Which, honestly, at that point was just us and one other couple who could only attend occasionally.  

Our pastors were incredibly kind and loving.  They repeated over and over to us how much they felt we needed to rest and receive for a while.  There were no failures.  No condemnations.  Just time to accept the calling to rest.

I wasn't angry with them or disappointed in our group members.  

I was angry with God.

Furious.  

Because I DID feel like a failure.  Like we didn't do enough.  We should have prayed more.  Done more service projects.  Had more socials.  Sent more text messages.  Had more bible study.  

And I was embarrassed.  Surely if I felt this way, then others would also think these were the reasons our group dissolved.  Why wouldn't they think it?  Wasn't it true?

And I was broken.  What little community we had was now, officially, gone.  I see and hear about other communities.  I know how life lived in service to others can be.  I want that.  Why can't we have it?  What's so wrong with us that we can't seem to find that here?  Why is this so hard?  All we wanted Lord were people to love and to love us.  In almost four years, we have none.  

Now, we would have to start over.  Try to find a new group.  One with childcare in the home. Not at another house down the street.  One that didn't eat dinner together more than studying God's word.  Because we weren't looking for a supper club.  Heck, one that didn't eat dinner AT ALL would be nice...seeing as I can't eat the food.  Which isn't a big deal, once you get to know me, but initially, it's pretty off-putting that the new girl can't eat regular food. Well, isn't she just super "special." (Said in your best Dana Carvey "Church Lady" voice.)

The Sunday after our meeting, I stood in our beloved church, listening to amazing worship all around me and I told God, Go away.  I do not want to feel this.  I do not want to cry.  I do not want to discuss it.  Or heal.  Or learn.  Not now.  I want to be left alone.

And because He is gracious and loving and never forces Himself on anyone, He left me alone.  

I know because I felt it.  I immediately knew I had built an enormous wall.  

But God continued to love me.  Sent me love notes.  Miracles I'd been praying for for a year happened.  Weights were released.  Burdens undone.

I'll share some of those later.

What I need to share now is this:  Don't do what I did.

Going to that place, our church, became dark for me.  For weeks, I went in angry and came out guilty and angrier.  My Father didn't fill me with those.  The enemy did.  I invited him in when I pushed God out.  The warfare created by that one incredibly selfish moment was hideous.  

And I can honestly tell you, I am only now coming out of it.  

Satan will pet every fear you have.  In losing the group, he delighted in telling me I was a failure.  God had pruned the group because it wasn't baring any fruit.  It was chopped off and burned in the fire.  It was my fault.  I hadn't prayed enough.  Loved them enough.  Served them enough.  Those precious friends spent a year and a half in my house and we had only failures to show for it.

But NONE of that was true.  

Were we the most outstanding, holy, devoted group leaders ever?  No.  Could we have done more?  Been better?  Of course.  

But God showed me the marker stones.  He had me turn around, look back, and pick up each stone one at a time.  A stone out of the river He has just brought us across.  

There were many.  Good and wonderful miracles performed.  

And hear me, GOD did those!  He was leading and creating and providing and healing.  WE had nothing to do with it.  But we were WILLING to meet with them.  To pray with them.  To love them.  Serve them.  And in the midst of that, GOD MOVED.

This past Sunday, He brought the pruning of the group, the healing of my selfish prayer and the greatest of marker stones all together as we witnessed one of the men in our group step into the waters of baptism and come out a new creation.  

I started crying during the second song and cried straight on through to the next morning.  Seriously.  I'm crying writing it now.

Our precious friend thanked us and another said HERE IS THE FRUIT...

But, again, HEAR ME...

...GOD MOVED IN SPITE OF US.  

God calls people to Him.  He is God.  I'm not taking Him off His throne by claiming we did anything apart from exactly what God calls each of us to do every.single.day.  

Love others.  Put them before yourself.  Serve sacrificially.

If we do that, if we do that in the name of Christ, if we give Him room to move, He will.  

So I've spent most of this week allowing myself to cry.  A lot.  But not the angry, bitter tears of five months ago, but tears of gratitude, acceptance and repentance.  

Chris and I have discussed at length what we believe to be during this season of pruning.  Of accepting something must change.  Of letting go of things, people, possessions, dreams, anything not bringing God glory.  And honestly, God has led us to a good many changes.  Things some people have been surprised by.  

And we still have questions.  I'm still human.  I am doing my best to live IN each day.  Not dreaming or planning for even tomorrow.  As a planner, that's been a struggle.  But, as I've shared with my prayer warriors walking through this with me, I want to be found faithful at the end of this journey.  I've taken those marker stones and given them all over to the Lord as His.  Grateful He showed them to me and ready to leave them at His feet as we move forward.  

A great deal of healing took place this past Sunday.  As my friend went into those waters, I felt the bricks of the wall I built finally fall.  I've been able to worship and pray and read God's precious word without the anger.  Without the condemnation.  Without the shame.  I took those bricks and laid those at the feet of my Savior.  

Praise The Lord!  

"Each of you is to take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of tribes of the Israelites, to serve as a sign among you.  In the future, when your children ask you, 'What do these stones mean?' tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord.  When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off.  These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever."  Joshua 1:4-7