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“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
— C.S. Lewis (The Problem of Pain)
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Do you ever get frustrated that things aren’t moving as quickly as you’d hoped? Or maybe you’re wrestling with that familiar ache of disappointment, wondering why things just aren’t happening in, around, or for you.
In Luke 13:6–9, Jesus tells a parable of a man who planted a fig tree in his vineyard. For three years, he came looking for fruit but found none. Frustrated, he said to the vinedresser, “Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?”
But the vinedresser says, “Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put on manure. Then if it should bear fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”
When we read this parable, I think we’re tempted to believe God is the man who grew impatient. But he’s not. He is the vinedresser—the one who intercedes, who patiently tends to the barren places of our lives. He’s the one who says, “Let it alone.” That phase is the same one Jesus used on the Cross when he asked the Father to forgive us.
We’re the man who gets impatient.
When we grow impatient, God shows mercy. When we’re ready to give up, God asks for time. He doesn’t rush the process. He knows that sometimes it takes digging up the soil of our hearts, working in the mess and manure, to bring forth the fruit of life.
The manure—the hardships, the disappointments, the setbacks—they’re not wasted. They’re the very things God uses to nurture growth. It’s in those dark, difficult places that roots go deeper and fruit is formed.
Response
This week, when you feel the sting of delay or the ache of unmet expectations, when you’re tempted to cut down the tree, remember that the Vinedresser is still at work. He’s still digging, still tending, still waiting.
My friend, breathe in His patience. Breathe out your frustration. Take inventory of how the Father has patiently and intentionally cultivated the soil of your heart. It’s so easy, after all, for us to forget.
Closing PRAYER
When you’re ready, let’s pray,
Father, thank You for Your patience with me.
Help me to trust Your timing,
to see Your hand in the manure and the mess,
to believe that even when I can’t see the fruit,
You are still tending, still cultivating, still bringing forth life.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Praying with you,
Addison
P.S. I mention this each time because we always have new members—close to 40,000 now!—but if you don’t have the Words with God book yet, be sure to grab it from Amazon or the Messenger Store. I spend a lot of time on how to discern God’s closeness in the pain.
