Soooo, what are you doing with those pruning shears?

Gardens have always been a part of my life. Some of my earliest childhood memories are tromping on freshly tilled soil, watching my great grandparents, grandparents and parents drop seeds and plants into the ground, weeding between the rows, staking up tomatoes and beans, all the while trying to keep my sister and me from stepping on all of their hard work. Then there were the flowers and blooming bushes. Azlaelas, Sweet Williams, marigolds, dalias...lots and lots of things that make the yard look pretty. One would think that I would have a treasure trove of gardening knowledge from spending all of those hot days out there with 3 generations of gardeners…but I don’t. Seriously, I watched all that they did, and never learned a thing about growing anything.

Last Spring, I decided to put on my big girl panties, and follow in the footsteps of all of those generations before me. It all started when I made the decision that I wanted to feed my family healthier, fresher foods, and that the best starting point was to grow our own garden. Eat what we can while it’s in season, and preserve the rest.

So I took my shovel, and I broke ground, all along seeking my dad and Google for help in deciding on what to grow, how much to grow, how to fend off the thievish rabbits that abide in my backyard, and how to keep the bugs away without dousing my sweet little plants in poison.

There is so much to learn, and it’s going to take years of experience before I get it just right. It’s been a very educational experience.

One thing I have learned about myself is that I’m pretty tough. I dug up a 12x12 plot in the rocky clay soil of my backyard by hand, leaving big old blisters all over my palms, and I didn’t even cry.

I tilled it using a rear-tined tiller all by myself. For those who know the joys of a rear-tined tiller, you know what I’m saying. If you’re not sure why that matters, imagine standing behind a machine that could not be more unpredictable and jerky if it were attached to a rodeo bull, and trying to guide said machine in a straight line while it kicks dirt and rocks all over the place, and occasionally decides to do a bunny hop while you try desperately just to hold the thing to the ground. Now do that for 2 hours. Yeah. Crossfit ain’t got nothin’ on a rear-tined tiller.

I was feeling a little Super Woman-ish, but it was when I branched out into flowers that I found my kryptonite. 

First of all, they are harder to keep alive. I have to work twice as hard on the pretty things as I do on the wholesome things because they just don’t come as easily to me. But beyond even that, there’s pruning.

This is a tough one for me.

There are two main reasons to prune a flowering thing. One is to remove a part of the plant that is dead. That’s the easy one because the dead part is ugly, and it just needs to go to keep the plant healthy. The second reason is to make room for new growth. This is the tough part for me because very often, this type of pruning requires one to cut off a part of the plant that is healthy and thriving that, very likely, already has some very pretty blooms on it.

Why? Why the healthy parts? I’m not sure about the science behind it, but for whatever reason, it encourages the plant to grow more blooms, making it more vibrant and more beautiful.

I know that this kind of pruning works. This is what all successful flower gardeners do.

But it’s just so hard to let go of those perfect pretty little blooms not really truly knowing that there will be more to take their place. This kind of pruning takes a certain amount of faith.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the Gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” -John 15:1-2 (NIV)

That’s in red letters, y’all. I love it when God speaks in the most mundane things.

Sometimes the things that God cuts from our lives are not bad things. Friendships, community, positions of influence that bring joy to our lives and the lives of others. These are good things. Things that have produced spiritual fruit, things that make our lives a little more beautiful. But God wants more for us than a few blooms. He wants clusters of blooms, spilling out all over the place where we are planted, adding beauty and joy to our lives. When we flourish in this way, we are seen  as a thing of beauty, but the Gardener is the One who gets the credit.

It’s tough to be pruned in this way. I’ve had people in my life that lifted me up, and taught me things, but they were for a season. They could not go with me to the places that God wanted to take me, and I could not go with them to the places that God wanted to take them. There have been communities that I have been a part of that will forever be a bright spot in my past, but I couldn’t stay there and continue to flourish. That season ended. And there have been jobs and volunteer positions that were wonderful up to the day that God said that it was time to step down, but reluctantly, I said goodbye because God had new growth in mind.

Pruning can be painful, but I would rather have those sweet memories than to hang on until the few blooms that had budded out withered up and died, leaving me with nothing but nothing. The Gardener’s way is so much better.