It never makes sense at the time but each fall, right before the cold of winter sets in, I walk into the garage and retrieve the lopping shears. I make my way to the beautiful hydrangeas that, just weeks earlier, had brought color to my entire house. I then proceed to cut them off at the roots.
Some call it pruning.
Truthfully, I'm an inch away from killing the whole thing.
But I don't. I leave just enough. Just enough to come back. Just enough to leave room for a revival. Just enough to leave room for an even more gorgeous landscape..when the time is right again.
God is willing to do this in our lives.
It makes no sense to us. It seems like such a waste. If looks and feels like it's over.
There is a season of winter that takes over.
A season of cold, lifeless, colorless, emptiness that defines us.
But in time, God breathes. He breathes hope. And hope is warm.
The warmth of hope softens the cold hard ground.
And in God's time, from that fragile root, life returns. Bigger. Bolder. Brighter. Than anything we could have imagined.
And the truth is inescapable: For this beauty to exist...something had to be cut down.
He makes all things new.