pruning

There is something about tending to plants that slows you down enough to notice things you normally rush past.

The other day I was helping a friend prune some of her new plants. At first it seemed like a simple task. Just clean them up a bit, trim the dead pieces, help them grow better, but as we began working through each leaf and vine, one by one, it became something much deeper.

Pruning is such a beautiful (and necessary) process even though it may feel painful to experience.

You can’t just glance at a plant and start cutting. You have to pay attention. You look closely at each vine, each leaf, gently moving them aside to see what is really going on beneath the surface.

Some leaves were easy to identify....

They were dry and crispy, already detached from life. Those were simple. A gentle touch and they released without much effort.

Other leaves were more complicated.

They weren’t completely gone yet. Their color had faded and their vibrancy had softened, but there was still something there. They looked like they just needed a little more time… a little more light… a little more nourishment and love....

So we left those.

Then there were the strong ones with deep green leaves, standing upright and firm, reaching confidently toward the light, sturdy and full of life. Those were the ones we decided could carry the weight of the weaker vines against, intertwining them together for support for the plant that needed strength.

And somewhere in the middle of all of this quiet work, the conversation flowed deeply into our spirits of what God does with us.

Because the truth is, God prunes our lives in very much the same way.

Sometimes we get frustrated with Him when something is removed from our lives. A relationship. A dream. A season that once felt full of life but suddenly feels like it’s fading.

We wonder why.

But when you’re standing over a plant long enough, you start to understand something important.

If a dying branch stays connected, the plant will keep trying to feed it.

Energy that could nourish healthy growth is constantly being redirected to something that no longer has life in it.

Eventually, the surrounding foliage begins to weaken too.

The gardener doesn’t prune to punish the plant.

The gardener prunes to protect its life.

Sometimes the things God removes are already crispy and ready to release. When we look back later, we realize they had run their course long before we let them go.

Other things simply need time and light. They aren’t meant to be cut away yet. They’re just in a season where nourishment is still working its way through.

And then there are the strong vines in our lives....

The people, habits, and places where life is thriving.

Often those are the very things God uses to support the weaker areas until they regain strength.

Pruning is intentional work.

It requires attention, patience, and love.

And when we begin to understand that, we start to see God’s hand in a new way.

He isn’t randomly cutting pieces out of our lives.

He is tending to us...looking closely at every branch within us....

Protecting what is alive.

Removing what no longer has purpose....

And strengthening the parts of us that are still growing.

In the moment, it feels uncomfortable.

But the purpose of pruning has never been LOSS.

It has always been GROWTH.

And sometimes the most loving thing a gardener can do…is gently remove what is draining life so something beautiful can flourish.

Thanking God for His loving kindness.

Big Heart Hugs! Michele

PS. If you are looking for a community of Strong Ones, meet me at www.ButGodSisterSquad.com