The Vine

Totus Tuus

Have you ever planted a grape vine? Those things are relentless. The one in the backyard was out of control. It was taking over in a major way. And it needed to be stopped. 

So genius me, on the sunniest Saturday of the year, got a wild hair and decided to destroy it. Gloves on my hands and clippers out I was in full attack mode. After a few minutes of my solo pursuit, my family started to join and we clipped and pulled, sawed and dug what felt like miles and mounds of that light green vine. It had wrapped itself around every surface. The vine, which felt tougher than string, and quite frankly less forgiving, was tied onto lattice work and other trees. And as we fought to undo it I wondered why anyone would ever, in their right mind, plant a grape vine. 

The vine was everywhere, in everything, and it took a serious amount of sweat and elbow grease to detach even the smallest portion of it. Nothing was exempt from its power. Nothing was left from its impact. And all I wanted was to get it out of my backyard. 

I am the vine, you are the branches. 

But in my exhaustion from this fight against the vine, that even the country music couldn't relieve, I started to think about what God was telling us about the vine. What was He saying He was? 

He could have been something standard like the rose, or the tulip, or the sunflower. He could have just been sturdy like an oak tree or self sustaining like a cactus. But, no, He picked the vine. And here I was cursing as I tugged on every last inch of the one that was suffocating the fence, the garden bed, the grass, and quite frankly my love of nature. 

But, God, He chose the vine. 

And isn't the vine so completely who He is? Strong, sturdy, and unrelenting in love. Isn't God woven in between every crack, wrapped around every piece of us that we expose? Is God not all powerful, all encompassing, and oh by the way kind of beautiful? It's funny, as I looked at this gigantic vine which I considered overstaying it's welcome, I sat in awe of our God. 

We planted that vine. We knew it would grow. We knew it would twist and turn and maneuver itself into every piece of our porch. But I don't think I knew that it would one day become one with the backyard. But, here I was, overwhelmed by how crazily it had done just that. And the more I consider my own faith, my journey with Christ, my wild life and this amazing adventure He has me on, I recognized that long ago, I planted this vine. I said yes to God, and He stretched into every ounce of who I am. God is the vine. He is everywhere and in everything. And on the days I forget that I placed my trust in Him, I get annoyed when things seem out of my control, and devastated when things aren't neat and organized just like planned. But at some point, we have to realize that the vine has become more than just a decoration on the side of the yard. It has become what we are, who we are, what we believe in, what holds us up, what pushes forward, and what gives us life. So when He takes over...how can we not just let Him? 

That day in the backyard I got rid of all the vine that had covered the backyard, because it's hard to stop a vine once it's attached. But, I clung tighter to the vine that is Christ too. Because in the same way, it's hard to stop a vine once it's attached and I had no plans of cutting this one down. So each day, I hope God's goodness takes over another piece of this woman that I'm growing to be. I hope He wraps himself around my heart, attaches His plans to the work I do here on His earth and produces good fruit from my hands. This vine, that I can't control yet I willingly pick, I plant, and I watch in awe as it continues to grow into something more beautiful than I can understand.