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Clinging


I have a number of flowering vines, deliberately planted, and innumerable wild ones populating the backyard and prayer trail beyond it. I am fascinated by their very determined twining and stretching, in spite of barriers, dry places, and competition for soil…


But there are two such vines that struck me this morning because of the disparity in their growth. 


One—a climbing hydrangea—has yet to live up to its name. It’s not the vine’s fault. I had just assumed it would climb up the wall, so I’ve given it nothing to cling to. One year later, it’s still more like a meager little bush, evidently stunted in its growth for lack of a trellis. 


The other one, on the other hand—a Mandevilla—has twined itself tightly onto the trellis I gave it, intricately and inseparably weaving through its sturdy iron structure over and over, back and forth. If ever there was an image of a living thing clinging to something, this is it. 


As we live and grow, we need something strong, steady, and solid to cling to, as well. If we were that stout and voluminous Mandevilla, but merely clinging to the nearest stick, we would eventually collapse on ourselves. We can aspire to reach for the sky, but if we have no solid anchor and framework, we will fall. Or else never rise at all, stunted…only a fraction of what we were meant to become. 


Some may shun this notion, dismissing God’s word as irrelevant or outdated in part or in whole. But there is a strength in them that I need to cling to. Not just lean against—cling to. It guides me in the right direction, fostering a flourishing and healthy soul. It anchors me in truth and consistency. It steadies me in the worst of storms. And 

hold me up when I cannot hold myself up. 


#BackyardDevo 

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