Throughout my first month in Guatemala, I continued to get more and more frustrated with myself and with God.  I wanted to blog, but I had no idea what to post.  I had no dramatic revelations from the Lord.  I had no extremely emotional experiences that prompted me to write.  I felt stale.  I felt stagnant.  I felt disconnected.

Toward the end of the month, as strange as it sounds, the thought of adventitious buds kept coming to mind.  During that same time, conversations began to form among teammates, squad mates, and team leaders around identity.  My team also decided to begin sharing our testimonies.  As I began to dive into my past to prepare my testimony, the clear blue waters of my identity, I originally thought existed, had suddenly turned to dark, thick, muddy water.  I was trudging through a mess.  A mess I obviously wasn't able to clean up on my own. 

While walking to ministry one of the last mornings in Guatemala, I had the revelation I had been craving the entire month.  Jesus did not die on the cross so that I could be improperly pruned.  He never intended for the hurt to be covered with pretty foliage, making everything look right from the outside, but allowing improper healing on the inside.  God is after my roots and He has spent the last month digging.  He has shown me places that I have allowed to heal, without him.  Those places may look healed, but they will not bear any fruit.  I am done being pruned and am happy to wait in silence while He continues to dig and plant seeds of an identity rooted in Him.

Look for the places you’ve been improperly pruned, then give Him access to the roots.