A day ago I realized I have two Palo Verde trees in my front yard when I met my neighbor Joel. Joel has an immaculately manicured desert landscape lawn and mercifully stopped by to talk with me when he saw me at work in the jungle that my property had become. In the nicest way possible he gave me advice, offered me tools and one thing he said stuck out to me: “These Palo Verde trees could definitely be cut back, that would help them grow.”

“Oh so those are Palo Verde trees. Imagine that!” I thought to myself as I nodded seriously.  Then I went inside and Googled how to prune them.

This seems silly to admit but I thought the plants just… grew. There’s another tree in my yard and it’s big and strong and rises from the earth like it was obviously destined to do. Only there was a time when that tree was fragile and need to be shaped and these young vibrant green trees I was neglecting needed some help.

After a quick Google™ Search (here’s what i found) I was ready to tackle nature with a pair of work gloves and some heavy duty branch clippers.

As I set to work with the blade, each cut echoed something deeper as the gardening instructions seemed to speak metaphorically to my soul.

Trim off the dead branches

No shit, Sherlock. That’s obvious because they’re ugly and brown and obvious and… still need cutting. It still requires the action of taking them off – the effort, the sacrifice, the discipline. Wouldn’t be nice if everything ugly dead and decaying about us would just fall off without us having to work at it? There are parts of me that are metaphorically dead and I still cling to them out of habit or nostalgia.

SNAP! A dead branch broke off, fell to the ground and cracked. I am convicted.

Trim off the branches that droop downward

They’re green, they have life coursing through them but instead of reaching up toward the sun they sink toward the earth.

This reminded me of negativity and the overall cynicism that has laid claim to my generation. My faith is one that pulls me up, not weighs me down and branches that tug at me to keep from rising are to be removed. My negativity does nothing but keep me from growing.  It’s a harsh cut to make, but it’s life or death for the whole of the tree. I took a step back to check my progress and I already see the tree reaching taller, looking stronger.

I am hopeful.

Trim off branches that rub against or cross others

This one was easy to see, but tough to do. I could look at these trees and see where two healthy branches crossed and while both healthy limbs, one of them had to go. I made my choice, made my cut, and gave the tree more room to grow. This reminded me of the things in life that are absolutely fine and healthy but are impeding growth on a larger scale. Could be work, a hobby, or even gardening (ha!) but When there is a friction between branches – it’s the one that’s rising highest that survives. I am focused.

At the end of my work I had two awesomely transformed Palo Verde trees. By removing what was holding them back and using up their life unproductively, I gave them new life. I soaked their roots in water and delighted in the progress. I believe it’s the same delight God feels when He works in our lives – but I should point out that this metaphor has it’s “roots” in something I read in a book once…

“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.”

– Jesus Christ, John 15

Pruning is a painful process but it’s necessary for growth. The Gardener sets the sheers to us and transforms us even when we feel the wound more than the hope it brings.

In the book of Romans it says “You do not support the root, but the root supports you.” My prayer for today is to constantly reach up toward the sun. To chase what is good, not be  hinderance to others or succumb to cynicism.  To rely on the root that I spring from and realize that when the Gardener works…

I am made new.