Pruning Needs


I am out early this morning, here on the farm. I felt like a mother chimp, jungle-bound, as I combed over my baby for bugs, as I sat beside my beautiful pansy-plethora basket, deadheaded blooms and pinched off expired leaves.

The comparison gave me delight and fun motivation as I continued. My own, last of six, little chimp is soon to head out into the jungle on his own. We’re never alone though, really, always in the Creator’s company.

We also reside in, and with, the hearts of those we love. I’m not big on the empty-nest theory. I’ve got my service work, God’s will, in place to see me through the lack of kid things to keep me busy.

Although, does the empty nest go beyond not having things to do? I have to admit there is already a deep seated concern that my mother-umbrella has sprung a leak. That gaping hole won’t let me guardian over my littles like I need to.

As immense as the sky, God guardians us in ALL things in life, in death, and most especially when you’re out of your momma’s reach! I’m good with that.

So, we must prune well, remove any unwanted branches, encourage good growth, and do what we can to dodge bad bugs. Our next generation should be good to manage life and it’s challenges from here on out.

When we’re uncertain, or they are, we can trust that we will lean into our Creator.

Spider, Fly, Who am I?

Am I the spider, or the fly? As I write this, there is a fly trapped in a spider web about ten feet diagonal from me. I heard its frantic buzzing first. I thought it was trapped between the curtain and the window. It sounded close enough to be right in my ear. The buzz was constant and loud, unceasing really. It quieted slightly and buzzed loudly again. Till it ceased again for a longer time, then buzzed a bit, ceased longer, buzzed a bit, then ceased longer yet, again. Each time the buzz was quieter, faint, and muffled. One last time a silenced, yet attempted buzz. Wavered. Silent.

All the while, the spider was busy itself. Two legs clinging, wrapping, spinning, clinging, wrapping, buzz, buzz. Again and again, a near miss a couple times, as the frantic vibration must have loosened its wings. Near freedom, and yet not, a near loss, but not quite. Both sensed a fullness of life. One at its end, and one continuing.

So, where am I in all of this? Am I the spider, or the fly?

If I were the spider, my art would be like the fly, ever elusive, within my grasp, but not. Loosened, to nearly slipping away, but not. I cling to it, spinning, wrapping, clinging, spinning, wrapping, buzz, buzz. Trying to make it work. All the while I have the fly, my art, it’s not going anywhere, but it’s also not going away.

“What now?” says the spider to the fly.
“Do what comes natural to you,” says the fly to the spider “I am nothing without you.”


Would the spider be like my art, if I were the fly? I am trapped by this talent web, this obsession, this gift from God. It clings to me. I’m being spun by it, buzz, buzz.
“What is your plan for me?” says the fly to the spider.
“Do what comes natural to you,” says the spider to the fly, “I am nothing without you.”

I take in all that God provides me, digest it, and live out who He is through me. I am purposed through Christ, through my art.

I am nothing without Him.


~journal entry, March 2016