Lessons from a Withered Stem

The thought hit me one quiet morning like a whisper that wouldn’t leave me alone.

What purpose do dead flowers serve?

They sit there limp, colorless, and brittle still attached to what’s living, yet offering nothing but decay.

Their roots keep drinking, but their petals no longer breathe life.

What was once fragrant now drains what’s still alive.

That image stirred something in me.

I typed a few thoughts and sent them to a friend. But on February 10, 2025, God pulled me deeper.

Dead and dying blooms steal what’s meant to nourish new life.

They draw away vital resources, leeching strength from the healthy stems beside them.

If left untouched, they can even spread disease to what’s still growing.

But there’s a process that gardeners call deadheading. It is the careful cutting away of what no longer thrives.

And when you remove the dead, something miraculous happens.

The plant redirects its energy.

It begins again.

New blooms push through where death once lingered.

Isn’t that how our spiritual walk works, too?

Sometimes we have to cut away the dead not because we lack compassion, but because we can’t bloom in soil that keeps feeding decay.

There are people, habits, and heart-postures that drain us no matter how much love, prayer, or “nutrients” we pour out.

They cling like parasites, leaving us wilted and weary.

If we never let God prune what’s lifeless, our growth stalls.

But when we surrender to His shears… When we allow Him to remove what no longer bears fruit our souls begin to redirect their strength toward new life.

Dead flowers mirror spiritual decay. 

The slow wilting of faith when we stop seeking the Light.

Just as petals curl when cut off from the sun, so does the heart when it drifts from the presence of God.

Neglect turns vibrant belief into brittle routine.

Doubt chokes roots that once ran deep.

Sin clouds the air until what once smelled like worship now carries the scent of withering.

But the Gardener never leaves His garden barren. 

Through repentance and prayer, He restores what’s wilted.

He trims, waters, and tends until what was lifeless starts to bloom again.

Even decay can be redeemed when it’s placed back in His hands.

Maybe instead of asking 

“Why do dead flowers remain?”

we should ask,

“What am I still feeding that God is asking me to cut away?”