Recently, my husband took our five year old granddaughter and 19 month old grandson outside on a chilly evening after dinner. The purpose was to get outside for some fresh air, burn off some energy and most importantly, spend time together before baths and bedtime. I stayed inside and let them enjoy their time together as well admittedly, have some “quiet” after being with them for the day. When it came time for the kids to come back inside, little Coby had a stick in his hand, tightly clenched as though he had discovered something very valuable. His stick was actually a cut up stalk from a pokeweed plant my husband had cut down as their berries are poisonous, thus removing fear and temptation from the reach of small hands.

Coby’s hand, which was grasping that weed’s sawn stalk, was pink and cold from the evening walk so I began to gently “pry” his fingers loose in order to remove his jacket. Uh uh, he wasn’t having ANYTHING to do with that! He wanted the prized stick; it was his…he had found it and laid claim to everything mystical and magical his little mind could imagine. Tears flowed and moans of disapproval began to fill the house as I explained to him “I need to take the stick for a just a moment so gramma can get your coat off’. I’m not sure how much he understood my motives but eventually he loosened his grip and we were successful. Phew! Little boys and sticks are pretty important, I guess.

Today, our message in church was “Don’t Be a Stick”, based on John 15 where Jesus talked about being connected to the true vine. He warned the disciples (and us!) about three types of branches: 1) those not bearing fruit 2) those that ARE bearing fruit and 3) The ones that are not connected. Our pastor used a line that I wrote down because it stuck to me…”Don’t be a stick….some people are pretending to be branches”. (my paraphrase) Why? Sticks and old branches eventually get tossed on the burn pile. As I listened to his teaching, I envisioned Coby hanging onto his “stick” with every ounce of his emotional and physical capacity. He had “found” that pokeweed stick and by golly he wasn’t about to give it up without a struggle. As the images of his behavior from Friday evening floated through my mind the Holy Spirit used it to remind me of how often I grab hold of earthly things, clutching them tightly to me and thinking how I NEED this….I DESERVE ….I CAN’T let go of that behavior, bad habit, or past mistakes. But then along comes the Holy Spirit Who begins to gently pry me away from my false treasure. Phew! Little boys and sticks are pretty important. Grown women and sticks are important, too, as long as they are pointing out a much needed life lesson before being thrown on the burn pile.