Like most people, I’m not very good at keeping New Year’s resolutions. At the first sign of a new environment, new challenge, new mindset, I can abandon my lofty aspirations and settle into a “just be better than last year” mentality instead of pinpointing specific areas in which I want to grow exponentially.
In an effort to make 2023 truly feel like a “fresh start,” I opted to choose a keyword for the year and remind myself of it in both the difficult times and the abundant ones. My word for this past year was “Pruning,” inspired by a passage in John 15:
“I am the True Vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away, and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, so that it may bear more fruit. You were already clean because of the word which I’ve spoken to you. Abide in Me as I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches, He who abides in Me and I him bears much fruit. For apart from Me, you can do nothing.” – John 15:1-5
This, along with the Chris Renzema song “God Be” which adapts some of the lyrics from the hymn “Be Thou My Vision” and weaves them together with the garden imagery, became a soft place to land in the midst of a hard and beautiful year.
The year began with unexpected health issues, changing relationships, and a sinking feeling that the plan I thought I had for my life wasn’t quite enough. The year ended with a better understanding of my health and a restored relationship with my body, new and old friendships deeply rooted in the common foundation of Christ, and a better understanding and acceptance of where I’m headed in my life. But most importantly, I’ve had the opportunity this year to immerse myself in the work of God’s kingdom and ministry in ways I haven’t before.
And it was so, so much harder than I thought.
But through these painful experiences, the Lord showed me how, when it appeared as though He was removing good things from my life for no reason, He was actually making more space in my heart and life for Himself. And as a byproduct of this, I was forced to slow down, reevaluate the autopilot I had been on, and dedicate myself more wholly to the tasks He has placed in front of me.
My senior year of high school, I pondered frequently the question of whether something must die in order for something to be reborn. I wanted to believe that good things could come about without the death, or ending, of something before it (because death of any kind, literal or metaphorical, can be scary). However, when I reflected on Romans 6:6, I became increasingly aware that there must be a death to make way for new life.
“Our old self was crucified with Him in order that our body of sin might be done away with so that we would no longer be slaves to sin.” – Romans 6:6
We cannot continue on knowingly in a life riddled with sin and also be freemen in Christ. Sin must die before we are truly free, but how can we, slaves to sin, usurp this master by ourselves? The short answer: We can’t. We need someone who is not bound by sin to defeat it on our behalf.
The sinless Jesus Christ, in obedience to the Father’s will, suffered and died the death that we sinners deserved to die so that we could recognize this, killing our old and sinful selves, and allow Him to dress us in His righteousness. Dressed in His righteousness, we have freedom! We are no longer shackled by shame, guilt, or fear, but we live boldly in the truth that we serve the One who conquered all of that for us. Hallelujah!
I find it so beautiful that this past year of reflection on the simple word “pruning” points so clearly to the gospel. Just as the Vinedresser must prune the branches of the tree which bear fruit so the tree may become even more fruitful, the Father allows momentary pain in order for His glory and our ultimate good to be achieved. This pain can come in the form of disappointment, redirection, persecution… the list goes on, but for believers, we rest assured in the hope and truth that this world is not the end, and that the fruit which is produced as a result of the Father’s hand is sweeter than anything we could create by ourselves.
In short, this year was extremely difficult in many ways. But if these difficulties resulted in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control for the glory of God and His kingdom, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
My word for 2024 is “Manna,” inspired by and rooted in the story of the Lord’s provision for the Israelites in Exodus 16. I’m looking forward to seeing how the Lord uses this word to reveal His truths in the coming year and, if you’re reading this, I would welcome and appreciate your prayers for me as I seek to acknowledge the Lord’s abundant provision in my life in this year and long after.

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