One by one, the leaves dropped off the tree.

I had inherited the tree from a former teammate who had left for greener pastures in another country (literally, they were greener). And I loved that tree.

When it started dropping leaves, I pleaded with it to stop. I cajoled, spoke firmly, sang to, and even re-potted it.

I summoned Google to help me, searching “leaf drop” and “what kind of tree is this.” After all that, the tree stood sad and leafless.

Leafless looks a lot like lifeless.

For months, I thought, “I need to throw that dead plant away.” But I’m too sentimental for my own good. Besides, living in an apartment building makes it hard to dispose of large leafless trees.

Have you ever felt like that tree?

• “I have no leaves, and I’m a tree—it’s my purpose! If I have no leaves, why do I exist?”
• “I’m vulnerable and exposed here. And now you’re re-potting me? From the only home I’ve known?!”
• “You’ve clearly given up on me; you’re not even watering me anymore!”
• “Look at the neighbor’s tree. Not only does it have leaves; it’s flowering!”

Do any of those phrases resonate with you?

Recently, I have felt much like that bare tree: leafless and exposed. God cut back the leaves and growth in my life until I stood there shivering, seeing my brokenness and my many areas of weakness. It left me asking, Why am I here in this country? What am I doing? What is my purpose?

I have felt beat up. I have wondered what in the world is happening. But I hold on—because the ride is kind of wild—and I grab that verse in Philippians 1:6 that says,

There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears. (The Message)

In this season of painful, leafless exposure, God is showing up. He is pointing out the ways I have not trusted Him. Even as the Lord cuts back my growth, He is reforming my ideas about identity and purpose. It’s a great work He is doing in me, bringing me to a flourishing finish!

One day, months after I had given up watering that dead plant, I saw it—a tiny bud. It was kind of a wimpy one, but it was new growth.

Then another bud emerged, and another. The tree hadn’t died! Even with its very thirsty and pathetic exterior, there was still life buried deep inside. At the right time, the leaves started to appear. That tree now has lots of leaves and lives happily on my balcony.

My flourishing new growth is still coming. But it is on the way, even through the pain and exposure, even through the moments that are real and raw and sometimes ugly.

God is making me into a beautiful creation full of leaves!

• Have you ever felt bare, lifeless, and exposed? Take heart that God is doing a new work in you!
• Pray that field workers would be encouraged as they face pain and lack of fruit, and that they would keep their eyes fixed on Christ.
• Ask the Lord to equip Frontiers workers to obey Him through even the confusing times, and that they would trust Him for the fruit they will bear.

**This account comes from a long-term worker.**

Original article: https://www.frontiersusa.org/blog/article/the-leafless-tree