The Little Branch

The Little Branch

By Michael Orr

I started off a little branch that came up from the root,

With tiny little buds on me I hoped would soon be fruit,

I soaked up sunshine, drops of rain, and everything I could,

To grow into a bigger branch the way I knew I should.

But then I found my little buds had somehow failed to flourish

As I strived against the root that helped me keep my branch well-nourished

For I sought to be the brightest branch and soar above the rest,

So all the branches in the vine would know that I’m the best,

I’d make the brightest fruit and please the root that I was serving,

I’d branch out more than ere before and be the most deserving,

But still the buds had little growth and nearly lost their beauty,

For all the wonders found in growth I’d sacrificed for duty.

I treated growth as work, and thought I’d earn the root’s approval,

Instead my pride had stunted growth and marked me for removal,

For after all what good am I if I branch out on my own,

When the glory found in every branch is for the root alone?

I asked the dresser of the vine to help me grow once more,

To find again the simple faith I found in Him before,

He pruned me more than I could stand and set me straight again,

Removing all the dying shoots corrupted by my sin.

No longer living for myself, I gave the root control,

Replacing pride with purpose then, He made me fully whole,

And from His guidance fruit emerged, from every blossom grew,

A branch that showed the glory of the root in all I do.

I started off a little branch and now, at last I know,

Abiding humbly in the root is the only way to grow.

God bless you this week,

Michael