Life is like...a garden

A few weeks ago realized that sometimes my life (and maybe yours?) is a lot like a garden.
With great enthusiasm I began my vegetable garden this spring. Plotting and building, mixing soil and digging. I tend to get really ramped up with things initially, pouring much love and sweat into it. I love a lot of things so unfortunately I often bite off more than I can chew and become overwhelmed. It seems simple enough. You plant a seed, and become excited when the first tender shoots push through the dirt. For the first few weeks you check for growth everyday in hopes of finding the first signs of fruit. But then when the novelty wears off and the rest of your life needs attention- your attention drifts, and you become complacent. It’s kind of like building relationships. You make a connection, give bits of yourself, and hope it will blossom. In the garden you water faithfully…ok you water when you have time and… hope for the best.
The vines began to reach out to each other intertwining, allowing the weight of each to be borne by all in the community. It’s really a beautiful picture of how God must have envisioned life for us. Each bearing the weight of another, growing together in strength and love. Unfortunately like us, tomato plants must be pruned and guided or the will go where they please, becoming a matted mess and overshadowing other plants in the garden- blocking out the warmth and God’s eye view. This happens to me a lot in life- I leave things unchecked. A hurtful comment left in my heart to dig at me. An annoyance left festering, just waiting (ok begging) for an explosion. Unforgiveness or other sin left unrepentant can grow and morph- causing distance from God, causing bitterness towards myself or others, and can even grow from a single sin into a negative pattern and then a stronghold that overshadows all the good things in my life.
With fear and a tinge of bitterness I realized I had to cut some of the branches from my tomato plants. I had not payed attention to the quickly interweaving vines, and as predicted-after only a few days and weeks it was out of control. I began evaluating which were the strongly rooted ones. Which ones had the most fruit. And finally which ones were not carrying their load. Going to work with my clippers and knife I cut through all of the offending branches, knowing that in some cases the good branches would become victim. For days after the pruning my plants looked sad. Limbs browned and seemed to curl up holding to themselves.
This is the fear we have ourselves sometimes isn’t it? We know there are people, behaviors or attitudes we need to get rid of, but we fear the pain. We feel like we can’t bear the change or the damage. We are afraid to risk people seeing deeper and more clearly into our lives when we clear out the unnecessary brush.
So many times we wait. We wait until the pain is simply unbearable! There is a saying that people will only change when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of changing…sheesh…no kidding!
The bible talks about knowing those that are true or false by the fruit that they bear. It talks about cutting off limbs that do not bear fruit. Interesting no?
It takes time to heal after trauma- even if it is for your benefit. In the end it is still better to do it. After a week or so my plants began to recover. They gently reached toward the sun, turning a much brighter shade of green. To my surprise- when the tomatoes came in again they were much sweeter and more prolific than before!


"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." ~Anatole France