The Still Small Voice

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about hedges. Being that I am not horticulturally gifted, much less one to take up hedge clippers, thinking about such things is not typical for me!

It all started a couple of weeks ago when I was reading through the book of Isaiah, and I came across a verse about God’s judgment on an oppressive people. It read, “Let me tell you what I will do to My vineyard: I will take away its hedge” (Isaiah 5:5). That verse jumped out, and it stuck in my mind.

A few days later–coincidentally–there were gardeners in my backyard. They had been instructed by someone in my household to remove all the vines that grew on the fence, vines which effectively formed a hedge–a boundary that provided shade and privacy.

Initially, upon hearing what was to become of the hedge, I was a bit incensed: “Everyone will see right into the yard!” I said. “We need to leave it there!”

However, although the top layer of vines was pretty and green and flowering, beneath, there were a whole lot of dead vines.

The plant was becoming an eyesore. More than just being aesthetically unpleasing, however, the plant was not growing as it was meant to grow.

A new hedge needed to be created.

So, the gardeners took a small machete and spent hours hacking through the thick wall of vines, uprooting the plant from the soil.

Eventually, they laid down fresh, loamy soil and carefully staked new, tender green plants that will eventually create a new hedge–one that is healthy.

About a week later, my son and I were playing in the dirt with small shovels, and I noticed that many of the roots of the old plant remained in the soil. They are easy to pull out but form an intricate and hidden underground network that will be difficult to remove entirely because it has spread.

I was left to ponder what all this means, and I turned to the Scriptures.

I had a sense that this metaphor had something to do with God’s intent to make each of us new. God’s beautiful intent to give us abundant life–and allow us to become fully who we were designed to be–may at times require a painful process of refinement.

Our old nature will be stripped away, and God may use suffering to perfect us: “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:2).

Even after this pruning process takes place, even after the dead vines are completely removed from the garden, roots may remain: within us, there may be habits and a deeply ingrained thought life that takes discipline, time, and effort to remove. The book of Ephesians states:

“You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness” (4:22-24).

All this is to say, that hedges are a good thing, as long as our hedges are healthy.

Some of us may hide behind unhealthy hedges. We may use hedges to keep unhealthy secrets from others or hide addictions. We may shut out opportunities to love others because of hedges.

Healthy hedges do provide necessary protection. However, maybe I was wrong to think that a hedge so thick and impenetrable that no neighbor could possibly see through it is necessary.

Maybe a hedge that allows for some degree of transparency, accountability, and the opportunity for connection is what a healthy hedge looks like.