“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39). Each of us is a child of God. That means we all have the capacity to have more power and wealth and influence and authority and sheer greatness than the richest and most powerful and greatest people that ever lived. But in order to eventually be exalted on high, we all have to learn how to be humble. All of us fall flat on our faces from time to time as we try to make our way through life, and a lot of the time these falls aren’t such a very long way down. Sometimes we haven’t quite managed to get up onto our hands and knees before we fall back down again. But the true lessons in humility are when we have climbed pretty high and then we are asked to give up that height. It doesn’t really matter how high up a ladder we climb if it is just going to end at a chute that takes us right back down to where we were or even lower. Whether our falls are the results of our poor decisions or are sacrifices required of the Lord, it can be hard to give up that height we were at. President Hugh B Brown told a story of a time he was working on his farm and found a currant bush that had grown over six feet tall but didn’t have any berries on it. He cut it down to almost nothing and in its sad and dejected state, he almost thought he heard the currant bush say, “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. ... And now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me. ... How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” In reply, President Brown said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and someday, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you’re going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down.’” Sometimes we measure the degree to which we are becoming more perfect or worthy of love and salvation by how high we can climb, like we’re trying to build some tower of Babel that will get us closer to heaven. But the reality is that we are not any closer or farther away from our Savior on the top of the mountain or the pinnacle of the tallest tower we can build than we are at the bottom of the deepest pit. If we grow to heights beyond what the Lord has intended, it is only because He suffers it so to be. Our height has nothing to do with our individual worth or our progress in becoming more like our Savior. It is by our fruits that we shall be known, not by the height of our branches. If we have become so obsessed about climbing higher to the point that we are neglecting to bring forth fruits, in short, if we are allowing our height to separate us from the love of God, then the Master Gardener is going to show us His love by cutting down that useless height and helping us to focus on becoming what He always intended us to be.
