Over the past several months, I’ve been praying my way through a little booklet of the names of God, compiled by my friend Debbie Williams. This week’s name was “Branch”, as found in Jeremiah 23:5.

The days are coming, “declares the LORD, “when I will raise up to David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land.

With all my talk about trees of late, I found it interesting that my focus was directed to the name “Branch”. I spent the morning mulling it over.
As I pulled out of my development, onto the road that would take me to all of my errand destinations, another car was making a U-turn, allowing me to see these words emblazoned across the top of its front window:
Out on a Limb

I have no idea what that actually means to that person, but it continued the thread of my thoughts. 
The phrase “out on a limb” generally means that a person is taking a risk, a step of faith that the “limb” will hold and their risk will prove fruitful. I actually laughed out loud when I saw it, as I never tire of seeing the lengths to which the Lord will go to get my attention. Talk about spelling it out!
You see, I’ve been struggling with some fear about stepping out and doing what the Lord is calling me to do. I’ve been obedient to a point, but have been hesitant to step on out, remaining, instead, pretty close to the trunk. After all, it’s safe there where the branch meets the trunk; it’s sturdier and more comfortable. But in the safety there at the trunk, I’ve noticed that my view is also obscured. Even as I sense that God has more for me, I can’t see it through the thickness of the leaves in my trunk-hugging state. It’s only as I step out further onto the branch, that my purpose comes into sharper focus.
If He is the Branch, going out on a limb shouldn’t frighten me in the slightest. His strength will hold whether I’m near the trunk or sitting precariously at the very tip. And the view…oh, the view.
Are you with me there at the trunk? Praying for all of us to take a step out in faith and grasp the life that’s waiting out on a limb.