A Time for Pruning
Every year, I am mesmerized by the warmth of spring—the steady reclaiming of vibrant green and the certainty of new life rising from the depths of cold soil. It feels as if this new life comes precisely at the most opportune time—that moment when we can’t stand the cold hibernation of winter a single day longer. Then, all of a sudden, it hits: new growth and blooms. We bask in the glorious mess. Yet, alongside the beauty, come weeds, strange shapes, and growth where no growth should be happening.
As those called to till and keep the garden that God provides (Genesis 2:15), we find our work in front of us. The moment the temperature begins to rise, we spread our pre-emergent, clear the broken and dead of last season, and survey where things have grown in strange and unwanted patterns. We refine.
Outside my office window is a gorgeous gardenia, perhaps my mother’s favorite plant. However, this year I discovered a problem—this plant has grown so that it covers a quarter of my window. Without regular pruning, it has grown large, but thin, with gaps where no leaves or blooms grow. Scraggly, as my mom would call it. So this week, I made the decision to forgo the fragrant blooms for one year in an effort to trim, thicken, and reshape the neglected plant. This pruning also expands my view through the office window of the outside world.
Sometimes, life calls for such correction. There are periods in which we find ourselves far from the person we would like to be. Oftentimes, this realization comes when we look down at our gut and recognize that perhaps we’ve eaten too much and moved too little. But that is only the surface level of the neglect about which I am writing. More profoundly, it is when we have neglected our marriage, prayer life, children, work, and all those important relationships in life. It can be the recognition that we have failed to pursue the goals we set out to achieve in our work, our mental health, or even the hobbies that give us life. Perhaps we recognize that, over time, we have become more fearful, greedy, closed-minded, or angry. We see ourselves becoming something we do not long to be.
Every spring, the Church invites us (BCP pg. 265) to experience the holy season of Lent. "Invites" is an important distinction, for each person must choose whether they want to participate in this reorienting of life toward the divine. Refusing this invitation is an option and in no way impedes the natural growth we might have as Christians. Choosing to accept the Church’s invitation acknowledges our need for self-reflection, pruning, and reshaping. It helps intentionally focus us on who we need to become and what practices will help us get there.
No doubt, participation in Lent requires our own vulnerability and work. Sometimes it causes temporary pain as we restrict ourselves from the ungodly habits that have crept into our lives. This momentary affliction also gives opportunity for new growth in areas often neglected. It encourages fullness and blooms that can beautify our lives.
I hope that this spring, you choose to do a little pruning, a little reshaping.
Morris+