My vines are dying. In fact, all the plants in my garden beds are closing down for the winter. This week we received our first measurable snow of the season, accompanied by a string of below-freezing nights. The next few weeks I’ll cut back dead plants, rake leaves, and prepare the ground for the long cold to come. Life sinks back to the roots, leaving the outer stalks to wither and fall.

I’m not sure if Jesus ever tended a garden, but he had much to say about vines:

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.

As a gardener the metaphor sinks in like water on thirsty sod. When my branches separate from the trunk of the plant, or in winter when the life source retreats, they wither and die. I can see the results in a few days—green and leafy one weekend, dead and drooping the next. Soon to be cut off and tossed away.

My life as a follower of Jesus only works when the sap of power and encouragement flows from him. I’m merely a vulnerable branch. Walking through garden beds at the edge of winter yields a snapshot of living apart. Dead and drooping or green and bursting with life, it all depends on whether I’m connected.

John 15 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Gabriel Meinert