Saturday, January 03, 2009
Listening to God?
I began fasting once a week and I really don’t like it all that much but I feel the need to seek God more intently and intentionally as I tread the turbulent waters of marriage-family tensions, and financial pressures. About 11 am this morning I took a break and lay down upon my bed. I just lay there for awhile, enjoying the silence and thought about the concept of listening to God. I waited for God to speak to me in the deafening silence, but words came not, nor was there the thundering voice of God like Saul heard on the road to Damascus, or that still small voice that Elijah heard on the side of Mount Carmel, breaking into my cottage-like bedroom/office.
My mind wandered to a shabby Rhododendron I transplanted for my landlord. The plant was barely surviving as the roots had no where to grow, so they grew around the root ball making it a solid mass of circular dead-end roots. When I dug the hole for transplanting the “Rhodie” to a new location, I dug the hole rather wide, and then plopped in the root ball. I back filled my wide hole with the excavated soil so the roots would not hit a ‘brick wall’ of compacted soil when they began to grow out of the root ball. I bought some bone meal to apply as organic phosphorus which helps the roots grow out of the ball and into the surrounding soil. “Plant down your roots, you shabby shrub,” I commanded it.
My mind suddenly changed channels and I saw an image of the infamous Bonsai maple I agreed to root-prune for a friend. I pruned the roots a bit too drastically and the leaves withered, turned yellow, then brown, and the little Bonsai went into dormancy. It sits there in now in our house looking rather pathetic with its brown leaves, a few falling off here and there each day. I’m holding it for safe keeping until next spring when I bring it back to the owner.
Here I am one day, encouraging the roots of a Rhododendron to grow out of its bound up root ball into new soil, and another day root pruning a Bonsai Maple so the roots don’t grow out of the root ball.
I saw the Bonsai in my minds eye mocking me. I had pruned out the deadwood, crossing branches, and thinned it a bit, and even removed girdling roots, but that made no difference at all when looking at the dormant midget-maple with the crispy brown leaves hanging on for what seemed like dear life. The more I thought about it, the more I could relate to the poor little Bonsai. Over the last few years God has been doing a lot of structural pruning in my life, which, by the way is painful, but nothing like the root pruning he initiated in my life most recently.
I was thinking, “Gee, I feel rather dormant here isolated on “The Island.” Maybe I’ve gone into spiritual dormancy. Is there such a thing? And I might even look dormant to the general public. Oh, no! But, then again, dormancy doesn’t mean growing has ceased, does it?” Did God intend for me to go into dormancy in order for His severe root pruning to heal and grow below surface where no can see?
You may be wondering by now, ‘how do you know the Bonsai is dormant and isn’t dead?’ Good question. I mixed coffee grounds in the soil for organic nitrogen, and gave it the proper amount of bone meal for root growth, and water it regularly, but you’re right in thinking, “Well, you might be creating great soil conditions for a dead tree.” Well, my trick is to scrape a little bit of the bark off each week which exposes some very ‘green’ cambium. This gives me a hint tree is still alive and the roots are still functioning (what roots there are left). The more I though about it, the more my recent days seemed to reflect the plight of the Bonsai. Both of us are so severely shocked by root pruning, that we went dormant to heal and grow in deep places.
I began to wonder why God didn’t just didn’t transplant me into good, moist, properly structured soil, with all the right macro and micro nutrients where I could put down some healthy roots. Then I realized that God didn’t want me to sink my roots down to deeply. Just like the Bonsai, he wants to keep my roots pruned and from sinking them deep into any soil so that at any moment I can be plucked up and transported into the environment where he wants me. I am reminded once again that I am a stranger and alien in this land, that I am a pilgrim, a modern day global nomad, just passing through, looking for a place to pitch my tent.
When I took the Bonsai home from a friend’s house, I just lifted it up and put in the back of my truck, pot and all. There would be no transplant shock like the shabby Rhodie is experiencing now. It dawned on me that true freedom is found in being a pilgrim with the roots of one’s soul not anchored down deeply into any cultural or social soil, or not deeply entwined in any particular economic, religious or political systems and beliefs that would prevent a Jesus Follower from responding to the call of becoming a ‘glocal’ (global/local) nomad for the Kingdom of God.
I found myself thinking about spiritual transformation, and how that bible knowledge does not necessarily translate into more spiritual growth. In a similar way, it is the same with trees or shrubs-just because the soil may contain all the right nutrients, it doesn’t mean the root system can access them and cause the tree to thrive. Organic materials (grass, leaves, bark, woodchips, etc) need to be applied in order to transform the soil so that the roots are able to take up the nutrients. I began to see the difficult challenges I am experiencing these days as the organic material that God seems to be applying to the soil of my inner-life. The process of trying to respond positively to these challenges is similar to adding organic material to a plant’s soil. It appeared to me that “spiritual organic material” transformed bible head knowledge into a more experiential knowledge of God. The application of both physical and spiritual organic materials leads to transformation and growth. Both the key and the challenge to the spiritual transformation of the people of God are found in responding positively to God’s shaping activities, even if it is severe root pruning which few can observe by examining the exterior.
After all this day dreaming and musing about the Rhodie and the Bonsai, I realized that God had spoken to me.
Brian, reporting from dormancy
My mind wandered to a shabby Rhododendron I transplanted for my landlord. The plant was barely surviving as the roots had no where to grow, so they grew around the root ball making it a solid mass of circular dead-end roots. When I dug the hole for transplanting the “Rhodie” to a new location, I dug the hole rather wide, and then plopped in the root ball. I back filled my wide hole with the excavated soil so the roots would not hit a ‘brick wall’ of compacted soil when they began to grow out of the root ball. I bought some bone meal to apply as organic phosphorus which helps the roots grow out of the ball and into the surrounding soil. “Plant down your roots, you shabby shrub,” I commanded it.
My mind suddenly changed channels and I saw an image of the infamous Bonsai maple I agreed to root-prune for a friend. I pruned the roots a bit too drastically and the leaves withered, turned yellow, then brown, and the little Bonsai went into dormancy. It sits there in now in our house looking rather pathetic with its brown leaves, a few falling off here and there each day. I’m holding it for safe keeping until next spring when I bring it back to the owner.
Here I am one day, encouraging the roots of a Rhododendron to grow out of its bound up root ball into new soil, and another day root pruning a Bonsai Maple so the roots don’t grow out of the root ball.
I saw the Bonsai in my minds eye mocking me. I had pruned out the deadwood, crossing branches, and thinned it a bit, and even removed girdling roots, but that made no difference at all when looking at the dormant midget-maple with the crispy brown leaves hanging on for what seemed like dear life. The more I thought about it, the more I could relate to the poor little Bonsai. Over the last few years God has been doing a lot of structural pruning in my life, which, by the way is painful, but nothing like the root pruning he initiated in my life most recently.
I was thinking, “Gee, I feel rather dormant here isolated on “The Island.” Maybe I’ve gone into spiritual dormancy. Is there such a thing? And I might even look dormant to the general public. Oh, no! But, then again, dormancy doesn’t mean growing has ceased, does it?” Did God intend for me to go into dormancy in order for His severe root pruning to heal and grow below surface where no can see?
You may be wondering by now, ‘how do you know the Bonsai is dormant and isn’t dead?’ Good question. I mixed coffee grounds in the soil for organic nitrogen, and gave it the proper amount of bone meal for root growth, and water it regularly, but you’re right in thinking, “Well, you might be creating great soil conditions for a dead tree.” Well, my trick is to scrape a little bit of the bark off each week which exposes some very ‘green’ cambium. This gives me a hint tree is still alive and the roots are still functioning (what roots there are left). The more I though about it, the more my recent days seemed to reflect the plight of the Bonsai. Both of us are so severely shocked by root pruning, that we went dormant to heal and grow in deep places.
I began to wonder why God didn’t just didn’t transplant me into good, moist, properly structured soil, with all the right macro and micro nutrients where I could put down some healthy roots. Then I realized that God didn’t want me to sink my roots down to deeply. Just like the Bonsai, he wants to keep my roots pruned and from sinking them deep into any soil so that at any moment I can be plucked up and transported into the environment where he wants me. I am reminded once again that I am a stranger and alien in this land, that I am a pilgrim, a modern day global nomad, just passing through, looking for a place to pitch my tent.
When I took the Bonsai home from a friend’s house, I just lifted it up and put in the back of my truck, pot and all. There would be no transplant shock like the shabby Rhodie is experiencing now. It dawned on me that true freedom is found in being a pilgrim with the roots of one’s soul not anchored down deeply into any cultural or social soil, or not deeply entwined in any particular economic, religious or political systems and beliefs that would prevent a Jesus Follower from responding to the call of becoming a ‘glocal’ (global/local) nomad for the Kingdom of God.
I found myself thinking about spiritual transformation, and how that bible knowledge does not necessarily translate into more spiritual growth. In a similar way, it is the same with trees or shrubs-just because the soil may contain all the right nutrients, it doesn’t mean the root system can access them and cause the tree to thrive. Organic materials (grass, leaves, bark, woodchips, etc) need to be applied in order to transform the soil so that the roots are able to take up the nutrients. I began to see the difficult challenges I am experiencing these days as the organic material that God seems to be applying to the soil of my inner-life. The process of trying to respond positively to these challenges is similar to adding organic material to a plant’s soil. It appeared to me that “spiritual organic material” transformed bible head knowledge into a more experiential knowledge of God. The application of both physical and spiritual organic materials leads to transformation and growth. Both the key and the challenge to the spiritual transformation of the people of God are found in responding positively to God’s shaping activities, even if it is severe root pruning which few can observe by examining the exterior.
After all this day dreaming and musing about the Rhodie and the Bonsai, I realized that God had spoken to me.
Brian, reporting from dormancy
