Life on the Vine

Some years ago I spent a week at a B&B in Lincolnshire.  From my place at the dining table, I could see a vine growing in the conservatory.  It must have been a good eight feet from the pot to the tip of the topmost shoot, as it stood erect, tied to the metal rods which supported the roof.

If it weren’t tied up like that, the plant would not be so luxuriant, of course.  It would have straggled no more than a few feet from the pot, and perhaps been trodden underfoot.  Staring at it day after day, I wonder whether our lives sometimes parallel the growth of that vine.  

We straggle unadventurously, moving only slightly if at all from the security of a humdrum routine, relying on our own efforts to develop.  How much more can we achieve, how much greater can we be, if we're supported, lashed to something firm like the vine to that roof stay.

There is an unwritten rule within our culture that says we should be able to stand on our own two feet, do everything for ourselves, live independent lives.  We feel that it’s a sign of weakness to admit that we can’t cope, that we need help, support or guidance.  Believe me, it’s one of the most selfish of attitudes.

By kidding ourselves that we can be independent, we are not only reducing our own efficiency, but we’re denying someone the privilege of helping, of being the hands or feet of God in a particular situation for which they are suited, and maybe called.  Next time you aren’t quite sure you can manage something – be it major or trivial – let go, and let God!