Nothing is Beyond Redemption

 

Paul+

 

Paul+

 

My son Paul went to be with the Lord eighteen years ago on October 6. This post from the archives is in honor of him.


 

I pull into the driveway, and I’m undone yet again at seeing my stunning camellia bush. This simple shrub that has weathered many storms, has taught me to hope, even when all seems lost.

Almost 16 years ago, I put in a little garden outside my window. Everything in it was dedicated to our infant son Paul who had died. The camellia bush, a butterfly bush, and countless flowers all graced the yard in honor of our precious son. When we moved, we got permission to take the camellia, which blooms around the time of Paul’s death. We planted it in the perfect place, directly in front of our new home.

Spring came and the bush looked leafy and green, but the full sun of summer scorched it. By September, the leaves had all fallen and the shrub was a tangled mass of dry grey twigs.

But it was so connected with Paul that getting rid of it was unthinkable. And so it sat there for months. Dry and brittle. Lifeless.

Our landscaper knew nothing of our plant’s history. To him it was just a dead bush.

One day when I was gone, he cut it down to the stump and hauled the branches away. When I inquired about it, he responded, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first. But it was dead you know.”

I know, I know, I know. It was dead and there was no point in keeping it.

After that, I couldn’t bear to look at that empty spot in front of the house. It seemed irrational, but the ache was all too real. I didn’t know why, but I felt that I had let Paul down. Why was this so important? Why did I cry every time I thought about it?

One spring day, I glanced at the space by the front door. I was stunned.

Glossy, green leaves were covering the stump. Though the branches were destroyed, the roots had remained. The roots needed the ruthless pruning and the dormancy of winter to begin the work of regeneration.

All winter long, when I could only see my loss, God was working for my good. 

Within a few weeks, a small bush had formed again. What I thought was dead, was now alive. Ann Voskamp tells of a rosebush she saw spring to life and noted, “what is dead may be dormant and what is barren may be about to bear and wild things somehow find a way to bloom.”

In late spring, we moved it to another part of the garden that doesn’t get direct heat. In the fall, the bush was once again covered with a breath-taking profusion of delicate white flowers. I wept when I saw them. They represented hope to me.

Nothing is beyond redemption- God makes pathways in the wilderness and creates rivers in the dry wasteland.

I have learned so much from that simple camellia bush.

God is always working — especially when we can’t see it.

Deep roots help us weather storms and drought.

Pruning is painful but necessary for a fruitful life.

When all seems lost, redemption may be closer than we think.

Never give up hope, because miracles happen every day.

 

  • October 3, 2015 - 9:15 am

    Effie Darlene Barba - Beautiful post. God is amazing and is the greatest treasure of joy we know. You always so beautifully point to that truth.ReplyCancel

  • October 4, 2015 - 8:38 am

    loren lee - “Pruning is painful but necessary for a fruitful life.” -thank you for sharing this Vaneetha! The Lord has recently taught me that lesson as He disciplined me to correct a negative attitude, a bad habit, and realign my vision to His plans for me rather than focusing on my selfish ambition. It was definitely the kind of trimming required so that my flowers will bloom as I journey with Him 🙂ReplyCancel

    • October 4, 2015 - 2:11 pm

      Vaneetha - What a great attitude you are demonstrating regarding the pruning, Loren! Praying the Lord will bring much fruit from it!ReplyCancel

  • October 8, 2015 - 1:34 pm

    Andrea - Thank you for this. I stumbled upon your blog from reading another great article of yours on the Gospel Coalition. I lost an infant son almost a year ago now and so this was incredibly encouraging for me today.ReplyCancel

    • October 8, 2015 - 8:59 pm

      Vaneetha - So glad this encouraged you, Andrea. I am so sorry about your son. The first year was so very painful for me. I’m praying the Lord will continue to comfort and encourage you.ReplyCancel

  • October 9, 2015 - 4:35 pm

    Abe Opeyemi - Ma, am really blessed by your write up.ReplyCancel

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