top of page
Untitled design (18).jpg

"Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you."

Untitled design (18).jpg

Why God Cuts Things Away—Even When You’re Doing Things Right

  • Writer: BeTheFire
    BeTheFire
  • Apr 15
  • 7 min read

Hand with pruning shears trims grapevine under a glowing sky. Purple grapes and green leaves visible, creating a serene, hopeful mood.

We see it all the time in nature, yet we rarely stop to grasp the lesson. A gardener takes his shears and cuts back a beautiful flowering bush, and suddenly it looks bare—almost lifeless. Trees are trimmed until they’re nothing but sticks and stubs. Vines are stripped of long branches that, to the untrained eye, seemed fine.


Why? Because every seasoned gardener knows: without pruning, growth will stunt, fruit will diminish, and chaos will take over. Left to itself, even a healthy plant becomes tangled, heavy, and ultimately barren. But in the hands of a wise gardener, the cutting is never without purpose. It’s the beginning of something more—more life, more order, more fruit. And this, Jesus tells us in John 15:1-2, is exactly what our Father does with us.

“I am the true vine, and My Father is the gardener. Every branch in Me that does not produce fruit He removes, and He prunes every branch that produces fruit so that it will produce more fruit.”John 15:1–2 (CSB)

This is a spiritual principle wrapped in a natural picture. If we are in Christ—the true Vine—we are expected to produce fruit. Not just behavior, but the unmistakable evidence of His life flowing through us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).


But here’s the part most miss: just because you're bearing fruit doesn't mean you're done. In fact, fruitfulness invites pruning. Growth demands more cutting.

Why?

Because God sees what’s still in the way of “more.”
Person tending red-orange vines at sunset, wearing dark clothing. The setting is a vineyard with a vibrant, warm atmosphere.

Just like when my husband is in the yard doing his landscaping work—when a tree or shrub is cut back, it can look butchered. It looks worse, not better. Branches scatter the ground, and what once looked full now seems empty. But he knows something the plant doesn’t: if you don’t cut it, it will never reach its potential. And if you let it grow wild, it may survive, but it won’t thrive. It won’t be shaped. It won’t bear full harvest.


That’s exactly how God works in us. We look at the pain, the loss, the stripping—and we panic. But God sees the overgrowth we can’t. He sees the places where old fruit is blocking new growth, where tangled branches are keeping the light out, where pride, fear, or comfort have choked off the deeper work He wants to do. So He cuts—not to destroy, but to prepare. Not to harm, but to heal. Not to reduce, but to multiply.


And here’s the hardest part: pruning doesn’t always feel like love—but it is. It’s the love of a Father who won’t leave you wild and fruitless. It’s the patience of a Gardener who knows that beauty grows in seasons, and sometimes the most painful seasons produce the most powerful fruit.

Person in red jacket cuts a vine root with a saw at sunrise. Soil scatters, creating a dynamic scene against an orange sky.

Think of a good parent. Teaching a child well doesn’t mean saying “yes” to everything. In fact, love often sounds like “no.” If a child tries to touch a hot stove, we don’t just smile and hope they learn. If a toddler runs toward a busy street, we don’t whisper gently—we yell, we grab, we interrupt immediately. 


Why?

Because the greater the danger, the greater the interference.

And God, as our loving Father, is no different. When He steps in to stop something, we often misread it. Instead of thanking Him for protection, we accuse Him of delay. Instead of seeing His mercy, we feel punished.


But what if the “no” you heard wasn’t rejection—it was redirection? What if the closed door, the lost opportunity, the painful pause was God throwing His arm out to protect you from something you couldn’t see coming?


We don’t scold a good parent for stopping a child from running into traffic. We applaud them. But when God slams on the brakes in our life, we question His goodness.


The truth is—interruption is one of God’s greatest acts of love.

He’s not trying to ruin your plans. He’s trying to save your purpose. He’s not withholding joy—He’s making room for lasting fruit. The Gardener sees more than we do. And even when the blade feels harsh, His love is behind every cut.


So while we may only see the mess, the missing branches, or the ache of change—God sees the full picture. He sees the bloom before we do. And if we trust His hands, even in the cutting, we’ll come to realize: He was never cutting us down—He was making room for us to grow.


When God prunes you, it might be the loss of a comfort, a season, a position, or a relationship. It might be conviction that cuts deep, correction that’s uncomfortable, or trials that strip you bare. It might even be letting go of yesterday’s fruit—things that once served a purpose but now only weigh you down. But don’t mistake the pruning for punishment. It’s proof He still sees potential.

“No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”Hebrews 12:11
Tree engulfed in bright orange flames and smoky haze, set in a grassy area. Intense, dramatic scene with a sense of destruction.

Even more sobering, Jesus says that branches “in Me” that bear no fruit are removed. This isn’t about unbelievers—it’s about those who claim to be connected to Him, but have no living evidence of His Spirit. That should shake us. God is not interested in religious appearance. A branch can look alive but still be dry and disconnected. If there’s no fruit, the root is in question.


But for those who are bearing fruit, don’t grow complacent. Don't say, "I'm doing well, so surely God will leave me be." On the contrary, if you're growing, you're a candidate for cutting. He doesn’t just want good fruit—He wants more. And sometimes that means removing even what was once useful.

“Those I love, I rebuke and discipline. So be zealous and repent.”Revelation 3:19

Ask yourself:

Am I resisting God's shears in fear of losing something?

Or am I trusting His hand to shape me for something greater? 

Am I willing to look “cut back” for a while in the eyes of others, if it means coming back stronger, clearer, more fruitful in the eyes of Heaven?


Pruning is never random. It’s personal. It’s targeted. And it’s done by the Gardener who knows what He planted in you—and refuses to let it be wasted.
“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time for us to do.”Ephesians 2:10
Twisted vine with multicolored grapes in sunlight. Leaves in the background create a vibrant, warm atmosphere.

So if you're in a season where things feel like they’re being stripped away—don’t panic. The shears are in holy hands. He’s not cutting you down—He’s setting you up. For more clarity.

More fruit.

More glory.

The branch doesn’t decide when it’s time. The Gardener does.

And if you’ve gone too long without a fresh cut, maybe it's time to ask:

Have I stopped growing?

Have I stopped yielding?

Have I mistaken comfort for connection?


Because every branch in Him will be touched. The fruitless will be removed. The fruitful will be refined. But everyone will be shaped—because our Father is a Gardener who never stops working His vineyard.


In case you haven’t figured it out yet—there is no comfort zone in Christianity. This isn’t a feel-good, self-help religion where you coast from blessing to blessing without cost. Jesus didn’t die to make us comfortable—He died to make us holy.


Yes, there is peace, joy, and victory. But there is also pruning, pressure, and pain. Always be content. Never settle. Always be ready to give an answer for your faith—even when you’re "bleeding", even when the blade is in God’s hand.

And beware of any preacher who only speaks of mountaintops, possessions, and material success but avoids the narrow path marked by repentance, humility, long-suffering, sacrificial obedience, and bearing the scars of love.

Because the real fruit? It grows in the cutting.

The beauty? It’s born in the breaking.

And the ones who look the most trimmed back?

They’re often the ones God is getting ready to bloom the loudest.


God Is Not the Author of Sickness—But He Is the Redeemer of Every Battle

Let’s set the record straight:God is never the author of sickness, disease, or destruction.He doesn’t send cancer to teach you a lesson. He doesn’t cripple to humble. That’s not the God of the Bible—that’s a misrepresentation of His character.

Scripture is clear:

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.”— James 1:17

Sickness is a product of the fall, a symptom of a broken world—not a tool in God’s hand. Jesus didn’t give people disease—He healed them. Everywhere He went, He reversed the curse, setting captives free, not placing burdens upon them.


But here’s what we must wrestle with: There are times God permits things—not because He authored them, but because He sees beyond them. He sees the end from the beginning. He knows what your trial will stir in others. He knows who’s watching you walk through the fire and wondering what kind of God gives you peace in it.


Your journey, as painful as it may be, isn't just about you. Its about the co-worker silently taking notes on your faith. The nurse wondering why you still smile during chemo. The prodigal child seeing you pray even when the answer hasn’t come.


Christianity is unlike any other religion—it doesn’t glorify escape; it glorifies endurance. It doesn’t promise a pain-free life. It promises a purpose-filled one.

That’s why Paul could say:

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me...” — Galatians 2:20

You are a vessel, a living sacrifice, laid upon the altar of a loving, intentional, holy God. He doesn't waste your pain. He doesn't ignore your tears. And He never stops being good—even when the fire gets hotter.


So if you're in the storm, don’t assume you’re out of favor—you may have been trusted with the fire.

Because your story isn’t just for you. It’s a message. A mirror. A move of God in motion.


And when people see the peace that passes understanding, the joy that defies logic, and the unwavering trust you carry—they'll wonder what kind of God you serve.


And maybe… they'll want to know Him too. 💞





Amanda Allen, the author of Kingdom Revelations, holds the copyright to her work, art, graphics, and videos. Copyright © Amanda Allen, Kingdom Revelations, 2025. All rights reserved. This article may be most definitely be shared with acknowledgment of the author and the original source of the Bible, the Word of God, created by Amanda's Bible Studies. Enjoy!

Comments


-e7n5hd (3).jpg

Hi, thanks for stopping by!

It brings me joy to know that you have taken the time to read my articles. If you ever have any article ideas or topics that you would like me to discuss, please feel free to reach out to me by filling out the contact area below each page! 

Let the posts
come to you.

Thanks for submitting!

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest

Contact Kingdom Revelations

Thanks for submitting!

© 2035 by Turning Heads. Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page