This morning my eleven-year-old daughter stood her ground in once again teaching our eight-year-old daughter and six-year-old son, despite their perpetual we-know-already ‘tudes. The subject was the usage of the plural for leaf. Jacob and Anna insisted it’s leafs and proved it by repeating it over and over. Ashley insisted it was leaves and she, without telling me what the dispute was about, asked me a simple question: “Dad, what’s the plural of leaf?” I told her.

“See!” she told them with eyes bugged out.

Anna didn’t seem impressed. Yet, later she’ll try out “leaves” when no one else is looking, perhaps at school or to the mirror.

I’ve been meditating on foliage this week as well. Interesting to view God as gardener. Seeing him this way is refreshing, particularly in Spring when this is immediate and visual. God is not inactive but attentive, pruning and watering and trimming to trigger new growth and formation.

So I have to ask, “Lord, what in me needs cut and pruned?” The third part of lectio divina that I am following is listening to phrases that surface in re-reading the passage.

As I re-read John 15, many ideas are bubbling up that I’ll talk about through the week. Today I’m struck by the way Jesus allowed himself to be pruned by the Father. He said this is the greater love. He said to love as he loved. This is not the golden rule. It is the platinum rule. Loving as we think someone wants to be loved is really not golden, it sometimes can be selfishly executed. Loving as someone else wants to be loved is truly golden and more appropriately what the intent of love is, yet even that love can play to the selfish nature of others. The platinum love of Christ is to love others as he loved them. When we give up our very lives, we demonstrate the love of Christ.

O Lord, cut away my dead leafs.

By Greg Taylor Posted in General

4 comments on “Di-Vine

  1. Isn’t it weird how the leaves that fall to the ground, or are pruned, can be turned to compost that fosters growth? And, isn’t it weird how compost (and manure) aren’t necessarily the nicest-smelling things associated with gardening?

    I guess it just goes to show that the process of becoming a strong, fruit-producing plant is neither easy, nice, or fragrant!


  2. It’s interesting to me that God planted the garden in Eden. He could have spoken in into being, like the rest of the universe. But He hand-crafted it instead.

    And, on the matter of pruning (re: the previous post): As little as I understand about gardening, you can help plants grow in two ways: Water them and prune them. We beg to be watered. Doused. Drowned in blessings.

    God knows that we need to be pruned, too. When there’s drought, it may be the only way we can survive.


  3. Work on this analogy….

    Why is it that the most beautiful trees often only bloom for a very short time? My tulip magnolia’s leaves are completely gone and it’s beauty is fading…although the green is quick to come….

    …have fun with that, if you will.


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