A Year of Yielding

“I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5, NKJV). 

Dearest Jesus,

I have become acquainted with loneliness; for in the first few passing months of this year I found it to be my friend, but in the latter it has grown to be the ever reminding factor of my failures. Too often I have spoken to the silence, my now closest companion, who’s questions left me answering my own. A constant sadness clenches to my heart as I yearn for someone to share with my tears and joy, but finding none, I resort to the stagnant stillness that is ever-present. But, beyond the aversion to the loneliness there is a truth that I have learnt to cherish, an irrefutable verity that makes the sun’s rays seem dull to the glorious glow of its beams: the knowledge of knowing that You are all I will ever need. As I ponder on the wonder of this thought, the deafening silence looses it’s scream and somehow You are all I see; gently I am told that this life is a yielding process – in the surrendering to Your Holy Spirit it’s the riches of Your will that I am permitted to possess. 

Time has taught me that my being alone allows me to be and discover far more than all this world’s insipid offerings; hidden within the crevices of the isolation is the endless opportunities to seek and find Your heart in ways that I would not if I were to be wandering in the vanities that are so bluntly proposed to be the source of your worth. In the silence I’ve learnt to softly surrender – not to the overwhelming isolation or desperation that indulges itself into my solitude – but to the guidance of Your Holy Spirit. Little by little I’ve yielded myself into Your creative hand, to shape and sculpt me into the vibrant being that I am in You; when the overbearing desire to give in to my feelings of sorrow and self-contempt places me in a predicament few would fathom (but many would know), I’ve been helped to realise that it’s precisely in these monotonous moments that I can see the brilliant radiance of Your nature and come close to the compassion of Your heart. 

Truly perceiving that I am a branch incapable of attaining anything more than nothing without You, has perhaps taken me a year, and still I some days wrestle with submitting to Your will. At times, all too often, I’ve been bound within the confines of the little that I know and the tedious deeds of morning to noon; I’ve felt secluded from all of my dreams, instead, I’ve concluded that vague ideals were all they were meant to be. In my tears I found a joy worth sharing with this wearisome world: even our best imaginations cannot compare to the splendour of Your will. The salty streams of sorrow has opened up my soul to sow seeds of surrender and yield to the Vine which is ever so tender. (Jesus, though my attempts of shaping my encounters with You into words may seem inept, I will gladly boast in You all the more.) My resentment was merely the result of my stubborn refusal to accept what I couldn’t believe – a way better and brighter than the one I had long of dreamed? Yes, all too often we are the makers of our own unhappiness, detesting the narrow path and appeasing the pleasure to wander on the road taken by too many. A recollection of my solitary moments testifies of Your greater purpose: I’ve been parted from this world to become one with You. 

The veil has been removed from the eyes of my heart as a husband unveils his bride: gradually my desires grew dim as stars on a gloomy night and what followed I embraced with artless delight –  a crimson-hued horizon blazing with growing gratitude, the simple result of yielding to Your will’s marvellous magnitude. 

I have now become accustomed, perhaps even content, to being with You on my own, but now it is time to yield what I (in the solitude) have sown: if I yield (surrender), I will indeed yield (produce). After a season of quiet glee, consisting mostly of moments of only me (and then finding You), of lessons learnt and a continual changing of heart to have one like You, of experiencing the true Jesus beyond the confines of convention and religion, I am entering a novel season with all I have gained from the latter as the foundation of the ground I am now stepping out onto. Doubtless there will be trails to test my knowledge of You, but a growing knowing of Your faithfulness will see me through.  The sun of another year is about to set, as surely as the sun of another is ready to rise: after a year of yielding, follows a year of yielding. And so the branch becomes one with the Vine, to blossom and bloom in flawless time. 

Perhaps, dear reader, you may find yourself in a similar space as I – alone intimidated by all of life, but be encouraged that it is merely a beckon to a place higher than that of the present: start searching for Jesus and I pledge you will find Him not momentarily, but indeed, all the time. If you find Him, hold on to Him with your heart and render to Your Saviour as the waves do to the wind. Be a branch, one with the Vine, and be sure that you will reap when you render, a harvest in due time. 

Each year is but a favourable time to yield and to yield, seasons of sowing and seeing and sowing and seeing. Jesus, thank you for the confidence I can have in You and your will, my hope is not placed in people or places, but in the goodness of a God that has never failed, and vowed to never will. 

“I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5, NKJV). 



One thought

  1. I can truly resonate with all you have said!! It is indeed a lonely road but by far the safest road!

    The ONLY place of safety is IN HIS PRESENCE yet we need to be His hand extended and cannot hide forever!



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