As the landscaper and I surveyed the work that needed to be done we stopped and looked at this “hopeless” bush. The landscaper was gentle but as he asked about the age of the bush and pointed out how much of it was dead, it became obvious that his recommendation was going to be to “chain it.” (I was learning that this is a term used when the root system is too big to pull so you take a chain saw and cut the bush off as close to the ground as you can. Then you can mulch over it and forget it ever existed.)

I, however, was not quick to let this bush go. I think, in part, because I remember buying it with some money I inherited from my Aunt about 25 years ago.Scrambling to save it, I asked the landscaper how it would look if he just cut out the dead parts. He thought for a moment and then a big grin crossed his face. He said, “It would look like me.”

I immediately knew what he meant as this landscaper is no stranger to me. He is a good friend whom I love and respect.The past nine years have been an experience of deep and painful pruning as he served prison time for a felony conviction. I am sure there were seasons of that time in prison when this friend wondered if God was looking at him and thinking “chain it.” But this is not the God whose we are and whom we serve. The gentle skillful landscaper is now a trophy of God’s grace. The pruning has made him beautiful and given him a story to tell.

God has had many reasons to say, when watching my life, let’s
“chain it.”

But Jesus took that sentence.

My landscaper friend, this bush and me all stand on level ground.

We are pruned, beautiful and free.