Yesterday I felt so extremely restless that I went outside, sat on the porch, and sweat. I saw that the Phlox in the flowerpot was dying in some places, so I started deadheading it. Deadheading is a horticultural practice in which you pull off the dead flowers on a plant. Without doing this, the plant directs too much energy to the already-dead bloom. Removing it allows for new growth and a healthier, more beautiful plant. Deadheading can be done with finger and thumb, or with pruning shears, knife, or scissors.
Right now, it seems that God has taken the pruning shears to my heart. So many of my desires are directed towards already-dead blooms. And it took me speaking these things out loud to realize that I sounded like my 9-year-old sister in the toy aisle. I want my body to look different, I want my hair to behave, I want to feel that you’re with me, I want someone to love me. I am doing what I am supposed to do and you’re not giving me what I want. I cringe even as the words come out of my mouth, but I cry anyways. I cry as I lay on the floor and pray someone else’s prayer because I can’t manage to come up with my own.
Every Sunday message has felt like a twice-bruised hip; the blows hitting an already tender spot. And if I am to believe the preaching of the word of God on a Sunday is as inspired as my ESV, I would have to say that the Lord has been speaking. He is speaking into my loneliness and my confused heart. He is reordering my affections so that there is truly nothing on Earth I desire but him. I’m starting to think that his will has more to do with who I am than what I do. The will of God is for my sanctification. I never would have imagined myself as this person—it’s so much better than I could have imagined. He keeps pruning me, transforming this wreck into something more wholly beautiful.