Chopping Wood

My wife and I bought our first house in March. We live in an older neighborhood beneath a great tree canopy. I love it. We are minutes from downtown and seconds from adventures in the wild kingdom that is our backyard. Last weekend was my first attempt at cultivating the beauty and order of this kingdom, using my hatchet, handsaw, and pole saw (insert throaty grunts here...the illustration to the left is an artist's rendering of what I looked like...in my own mind...minus the ox).

After consulting with a friend in the landscaping business, I chopped down a couple of precariously-positioned trees and cleaned up many others by removing a myriad of limbs. By the time I was through, I was wiping the sweat from my brow, staring proudly at my backyard and the massive pile of leafy wood that littered my lawn. I let this sea of branches sit for a couple of days, and then I returned to chop it all up, saving what I could for firewood and leaving the rest on the curb for the city to collect.

It was in the chopping that I noticed something significant: a drastic transformation had occurred. Something was different. On Friday, I expended a massive amount of energy wrestling these proud branches from their high perches. Healthy. Full. Strong. Now, on Sunday, I chopped and sawed with ease through these woody corpses, mere shells of their former glory. More significantly, I realized that I am like these branches. Jesus said:

As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. ...These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. (John 15:4-11)

Despite all of my glory (whether real or merely perceived!), I am just a branch. Remove me from the tree, and you will discover that I have no power, merit, beauty, or life of my own. We as men want so badly to present to the world that we are big ole redwoods, strong, proud, and self-sufficient. But we aren't; we have to tap into something bigger than ourselves for sustenance and life.

Take some time to consider where you seek life and identity. Respect? Prestige? Power? Wealth? Knowledge? Physical appearance? Athletic ability? When you pour that stuff into your veins, do you bear fruit and live joyfully? Or do you wither up, hollowed out and lifeless?