A cold winter storm is blowing through southern California today, yet I see an abundance of birds at the bird-feeders in our garden.  All of the activity reminds me of one morning last spring when there was also a lot of activity out there – lots of birds singing and chattering away as they waited their turn at the feeders,  many arriving in pairs at our fountains. There’s always activity in our garden, but that day was unusual with lots of extra wing fluttering and so much chirping that I was compelled to see what the ruckus was about.

As I watched in the warm sunlight I slowly realized that these were baby birds recently fledged from their nests and they were being trained by their moms in basic life skills.  We were having bird kindergarten!

A young house finch watched her mom jump onto our filigreed fountain, take a sip of water and then dip and shake, taking her morning bath.  This precious young one, clinging to the dry fountain edge, soon dipped her head into the water while shaking her wings and body, trying to copy her mom’s movements.  Only her head made it into the water as she dipped, so no water flew when she shook, but she as learning , taking baby-bird steps into adult house finch life.   

Nearby another mom and young finch were at the bird-feeder.  The mom took seeds in her bill, cracked the shell open and ate the tasty seed-meat inside.  The youngster watched for a short time but then began chirping and fluttering his wings just as he had done in the nest, opening his mouth wide.  I don’t speak “house finch” but I knew he was saying, “Feed me, Mom!  Feed me! I’m hungry and this looks yummy!”  The mom ignored him for a little while, letting him watch her, waiting to see if he’d follow her lead and feed himself.  But he didn’t and soon she fed him as he waited beside her.  Had he not acted this way it would not have been easy for me to tell that he wasn’t a mature house finch, able to feed himself.

As I watched this activity and even more that was happening that spring day, I thought about God’s loving, caring provision for me.  He is like these finch parents that teach their young how to live and survive in this world.  He takes delight in His children as we dwell in the shadow of His wings. He is so patient with us yet He wants us to grow up and learn how to live with the life-skills He gives us, praying with Him, reading His word and standing firm in trials.  

Hebrews 5:12-14 states: “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God.  You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child.  But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.”

Lord, grow me strong in your word, taking me from milk to solid food.  Help me follow your perfect example and live as you want me to live each day. 

Several weeks ago I discovered a bush in our front yard that seemed to be growing caterpillars.  It was a “volunteer” milkweed (sprouted up on it’s own) that was about 8 feet tall and had pretty little white flowers similar to a lily of the valley.  We have several of these plants growing in another part of the garden and when the flowers are spent, seedpods form that look like big green tennis balls.  It definitely makes an impression but none of those plants grew caterpillars!

When I discovered this big bush I was struck by how strong and healthy it appeared and moved in to inspect it more closely.  That’s when I noticed a couple of large caterpillars feasting on some of the leaves…then a few smaller caterpillars on some stems…then several more of different sizes…and I realized that the bush was virtually covered with caterpillars of the monarch butterfly.  I stopped counting at 35.  Amazing!  And the bush was so hearty and healthy that it easily provided life sustaining nourishment as it’s leaves were being eaten by all of those caterpillars.

So I began checking on the caterpillar bush regularly, looking for tiny new caterpillars just beginning their life-cycle, as well as large ones ready to take their journey to find their chrysallis spot and begin the last leg of it. What fun to have such an abundance of activity in one place!  But with all of those caterpillars chomping away on the milkweed I wondered how long it would be able to sustain it’s own growth as well as theirs. Just one monarch caterpillar can eat a LOT of milkweed in a day.

After a few weeks the caterpillar bush began looking really ratty.  Most of the leaves had been eaten down to the nub. Flowers had been devoured without a trace left behind. Even tennis-ball-seedpods weren’t safe from these ravenous eating machines.  Every little stem that showed a sign of new leaf growth seemed to have a caterpillar on it eating every last bit of it away.  The once lush green plant was nothing but stripped branches and a few half-eaten seedpods, with about a dozen starving caterpillars roaming to and fro searching desperately for food.  It looked like it was time for me to step in and rescue some of these ravenous roamers and take them to our other milkweeds plants around the garden.  This poor plant had almost nothing left to give!  

So that’s what I did, carefully carrying each chubby green-, black- and white-striped caterpillar to a new feasting spot.  When they found there was more milkweed on which to feed they began eating immediately.  I’m sure they were very happy to be in their new home.

However, I couldn’t help but wonder about the caterpillar bush, now stripped of it’s former foliage.  How long would it take it’s leaves to regrow in order give life-sustaining nourishment to a new group of caterpillars?  I did know that as long as it’s roots were strong and able to draw nutrients from the rich soil where it was planted this hearty milkweed would shows signs of recovery quickly.  It had been created to support the life of the monarch butterfly and adapted to such changes easily.  It just needed to abide…remain…and become refreshed.

I need to remember that lesson myself.  I’ve been created to do good works, which God prepared in advance for me to do.  However, when I feel as if I’ve given to others to the point of exhaustion and have nothing left to give; that every bud or bit of life-sustaining love has been sucked away, I need to abide in my Lord…remain silently at His feet…find His refreshment for my soul.  When I am “rooted and established in love, (I will) have power…to grasp..the love of Christ” and “out of His glorious riches He (will) strengthen (me) with power through his Spirit in (my) inner being.”  Ephesians 4:17b-18, 16.   And soon enough, like the caterpillar bush,  I’ll be ready to give to others again!

“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

Lord Jesus, thank you for the power that you give to accomplish your work and for the rest you provide when I am weary.  Help me to always abide in you so I don’t do Your work in my own strength. 

John 15: 1-2 “I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while very branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.”

The winter landscape in our garden tends to reveal leggy stems and branches with sparse greenery and even less color. So, since the day after Thanksgiving, Keith has been steadily pruning just about every plant in our garden.  Tree trimmers arrived first and cut back our large eucalyptus trees, as well as the Chinese elm and dense podocarpus trees.  It looked like a bomb had gone off in the backyard when they finished!  Luckily, Keith’s pruning isn’t quite as shocking as that but is equally as effective.  Cutting plants back to a center stalk with a few twiggy branches enables them to grow more lush and full once spring arrives: flowers are larger and more fragrant; the color of leaves more vibrant.  I like to think that the plants become more of their true selves, a better specimen of the plant God intended them to be. I’ve found that many times God, the Master-Gardener, prunes our human lives, as well.

Today, January 1, 2013, I’m thinking about the most severe pruning I ever received in my life.  You see, twenty years ago today I experienced the onset of Multiple Sclerosis, a disease of the central nervous system that pruned away much of my life as I knew it.    I awoke that morning so many years ago, with a severe migraine headache that didn’t respond to pain meds.  After staying in bed for three days the headache finally seemed to be better, but I had this strange numbness when I touched my skin that felt like I was wearing velvet.  I also felt a sharp electrical jolt that went from my neck to my heel when I bent my chin to my chest.  Thinking I’d pinched a nerve from lying in bed for so long I contacted my doctor to see what could be done to fix it.   And so began a journey I never thought I would take, a pruning I hadn’t expected or wanted. 

After months of visits to numerous doctors and lovely tests like MRIs and spinal taps my new-found neurologist, Dr. Jack H. Florin, gave me the news: Transverse Myelitis or possible MS. “Seriously?” I asked.  What the heck did this mean to a single woman, working full time in the banking industry, singing nearly full-time as a solo artist and in a jazz quintet, as well as speaking for church groups about how God provides joy in the midst of trials?  What would happen to my relationship with that new guy I was dating.  I was told there was no way of knowing the answer to those questions and we’d have to just wait and see.  Seriously?

Months went by and more unusual symptoms developed: weakness in my arms and legs, difficulty thinking and expressing my thoughts, not being able to remember things I knew like the back of my hand, fatigue that had a life of it’s own.  More and more of my “normal” life was being pruned away and it seemed I was making adjustments on a daily basis.  

A year after the initial diagnosis came the official diagnosis: relapsing remitting Multiple Sclerosis.  I remember going to the car wash soon after hearing the news and running into one of the pastors from my church.  When he asked how I was doing, I dissolved into tears and told him about the uncertainty of my future and asked, “Why did God allow this to happen to me?  What did I do to deserve this?”  I don’t remember his response, but his kind and caring words brought me comfort and I knew God would indeed help me with whatever I encountered.

After any severe pruning signs of new life and growth are very easy to see. And so it was with me.  Always one to look for the Lord’s purpose and plan in what I experienced, once I’d grieved over the loss of “normalcy” I began to see that He was using this for good in my life.  MS isn’t good – God was using it for good and because of that it was easier to maintain a positive attitude.  I began taking vitamins and supplements (and do to this day) that have helped keep me healthy and relatively strong.  When I needed to use a cane for support as I walked, I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me.  So I started a cane collection with fancy, fun and fantastic canes to divert attention away from me and my disability.  (I think some people were even a little jealous that they didn’t have such special accessories for themselves.)  When I began using my handicap placard for special parking spaces I actually had someone question whether I was “really” disabled, because I looked “too happy”. (But that’s another story for another blog.)

When I finally realized I could no longer work and would have to go on disability I prayed and asked the Lord to show me how it was He wanted me to fill up my time.  Of course, much of it would be spent sleeping and resting, but I knew I needed to feel I had a purpose and to set goals.  Soon after that, the new guy I’d been dating (for three years now) asked me to marry him and live in his home with a big garden waiting to be planned and planted.  I said YES and became a wife to Keith Vaughn and step-mom to his precious 7-year-old son, Kole. I was given opportunities to volunteer more at church, helping to plan and lead worship, as I felt physically able.  I was asked to help those struggling with new diagnoses of MS, taking and making phone calls in order to offer encouragement and hope. And I began sitting in our garden and listening for God’s voice, journaling my thoughts and the lessons I was learning.

In the twenty years that have passed since New Year’s day 1993, that harsh winter with a severe pruning, my life has become more beautiful and rewarding than anything I had ever imagined it would be.  I like to think I’ve become more of my true self, a better specimen of the person God intended me to be.  And only God, the Master-Gardener knew it would take MS to make that happen.

Father, I’m so grateful for the things I’ve learned these past 20 years, especially about Your love and tender care for every detail in my life.  Please help me to continue to trust that You know what’s best for me and that You will use that to shape me into the person You want me to be.