The Bush and Vine

Today we went for fresh strawberries.
We go to a produce stand in York called the Bush and Vine.
I remember my mama taking me here when I was about Maggi's age.

This is also the place, we went right before my wedding to get fresh ripe strawberries to place on the tables for my wedding guests.

Dave and I go here for fresh veggies in the summer.

We have picked many strewberries from here. The best part is the that they have strawberry slushies. They make them on the spot. They are the best thing you can have after picking gallons of strawberries in the Southern Humidity.

This is one of my favorite things to do, pick big fresh strawberries. I look forward to this every year.



Today, while I was there with Dave I thought about the name (after I was shocked by this year's price). YIKES.

The Bush and Vine.

I was reminded about the Scripture.

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. . .

I am the vine, you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.

If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. This is my Father's glory that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples." . . .

Lately I feel like I have been pruned, either that, or that I may be withering on the vine.

Literally.

The pruning process is hard. I feel so inadequate. I feel lonely. I feel like I have been left on the vine after the harvest has been brought in.

I can't figuere out if i am being pruned, of if I am like the branch that has been thrown away into the fire.

Am I fruitless? Am I already dead? Am I dormant?

My prayer tonight is,

Lord, keep me on the vine. Prune me, that I will be fruitful.
Remain in me. Lord, be my gardener.
Rain on me Lord, as I feel so dry.
Bring sunshine on me Lord, I seem so dark.
Wrap me around the solid surface, I feel lost.
Teach me to wait for the harvest Lord, I am fading.
Prune me Lord, so that I can have fruit. I feel like I am growing wild.

Just like a Gardener watches and waits, do that for me Lord. Watch me, anticipate that I am going to bloom, and then produce beautiful fruit. Let me sense your presence Lord. Let me feel your rain of refreshing, your gentle hand.

Keep me on the vine Lord.