We bought a townhome in late January of this year, and the first thing my husband said before we even signed the dotted line was the following: "We are going to cut down that tree, immediately." He was referring to a very large shrub growing on the back patio.
Fast-forward four months, limbs were growing wild. Our entrance from our detached garage into our home was becoming blocked by this wild-growing plant. Anytime we walked from our detached garage, across our patio, and into our home...we would have to strategically move our heads so as to avoid limbs and spider webs. I was ready to begin hacking away myself. The shrub was becoming more of an annoyance. It bloomed once and March and then just as quickly the blooms died. I wasn't sure if the shrub was any good.
One day, my father-in-love came to visit. He immediately took notice of the interesting situation going on on our patio. And without mentioning it to us, he called one of his landscapers to come out the next day to properly shape the shrub.
"Just cut it all the way down," my husband said the next morning when the landscaper came by.
I inwardly agreed. At this point, I didn't care what happened to the shrub. We had a baby coming in 4 weeks or so, and I was becoming annoyed at the thought of always bending my head and watching out for spider webs every time I entered our patio from the detached garage.
The landscaper carefully noted our vivid requests. But then he said the unthinkable.
"You know what this is?"
My husband's dumbfounded look, coupled with his lack of interest in knowing the genus identification of some shrub, simply shook his head.
The landscaper went on to answer his own question.
"If you sold this, this would be worth $5-6K easily. This is a grandfather Azealia. Whoever had this before you took really good care of it. It takes years and years of maintenance for an Azealia to grow to be this size. You just have a little fungus on it. But I'm telling you, people want something like this."
My ears perked up. My husband's eyes looked more delightful. I could see my husband making calculations and pitching creative ways for us to invest this money.
I walked back inside and made breakfast. While I watched the landscaper trim the shrub, I couldn't help but see God.
Just a few days ago, we were considering cutting down our biggest treasure in our patio because we didn't know its value. We only saw it as an annoyance.
How often do we do this and even advise others to do so?
We see a struggle, a trial, an annoyance...and quickly find ways to get rid of it in order to make life "easier, less stressful, more efficient" etc.
Here's the lesson learned.
Stop cutting things out of your life that was meant to make you look more like Jesus—Your greatest treasure.
Often times your greatest sore, your greatest annoyances, your greatest trials...are actually the refining that the Lord is using to make you rely and depend on Him—ultimately leading you into greater communion, greater spiritual maturity, and greater patience.
James 1 says,
"2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing."
Before you choose to give up on your child who has run your nerves amuck, or to quit your job because you're not being valued, or to stop that project because things simply aren't coming together as smoothly as you'd like, or to cut that friend out of your life because he or she is just too much...first ask the Lord is this a treasure in disguise? Because before you take out the scissors to cut certain people out of your life or certain things, you may be cutting out a treasure that is being birthed in you... which is Jesus.
Pondered Thought: What are some hidden treasures in your life right now that the Lord is using to refine you?
(P.S. Right now, my greatest trials are seeing the goodness of the Lord even in the midst of uncontrolled schedules, potty training, hormonal fluctuations, and feeling needed all the time. In the midst of this, I can still find the goodness of the Lord and make the choice to depend on Him even more. Oh, how I need Him. And if you were wondering, we couldn’t sell the azalea because the roots go down so deep that it would upend the foundation of our patio if uprooted lol. )