We have a Russian olive tree in our yard. Over the past couple of weeks, one of its lopsided, overgrown branches made its stealthy way into the path of the radio/antenna/dish thingy our new Internet service uses.

Don't ya love the irony of the OLD and the NEW here?

 After three phone calls, the company sent out the service technician. He took one look at the the tree and said that was probably our problem. Out I went with a ladder, a handsaw, and a pair of clippers. Several hours, multiple scratches, and one bee sting to the neck later (I now have a swollen, painful lymph node the size of a ping-pong ball), I had removed the Internet-offensive branch as well as a number of others that were dead, suckers that needed to be clipped, or branches hanging too low to mow around the tree. It took a couple of truckloads to haul them all away to the "pit." (My dad said he has a woodchipper, but I think my mention of it being a great way to dispose of a body made him hesitant to let me use it...)

(This is as far as I got. I'm waiting for a taller person, a taller ladder, and a better saw to take care of those last few dead sticks poking out the top.)

As with most difficult chores, this one came with a few valuable lessons that apply to life as well as yard work.

1. Dead things like to tangle around living things and twist and distort their growth.
 Recognize the "dead stuff" in your life and get rid if it, it's distorting your progress!


2. Dead wood is much harder to saw than living wood.
 Dead stuff can be hard to get rid of, after all, it has made a place for itself in your life and thinks it deserves to stay.

3. Just because a branch has three green leaves on its tip does not mean it's beneficial to the tree.
 Sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is quit clinging to things that are barely alive... let go and move on.

4. Pruning is best done at regular, frequent intervals, not ignored for years and years.
 The longer you wait to purge, or prune, or otherwise perform regular maintenance on your mind, your emotions, your relationships, or your body, the more difficult, expensive and painful the process will be, and you'll look really funny for awhile.

Don't be afraid of the pruning process. It's good for you.
That tree will thank me one day, I'm sure of it.

My houseplants are sad. Pathetic, really.

They're (mostly) green, and they are long-lived. I've had some of them for more than two decades, like this spider plant. They are watered weekly as part of my housecleaning schedule, and yet, they are sad.

Most of them are horrifically root-bound (which is another subject for another post), but that's not the worst of it. They're pathetic because I loathe pruning. Even picking off the dead leaves bothers me. I know, my plants, particularly the geraniums, "like" being pruned. I've read the articles that say pruning helps them bloom and grow (Do you suddenly hear Christopher Plummer singing Eidelweiss?). But I just can't make myself do it often enough to be effective.

This is a normal schefflera plant

As a result, my plants are crooked, lopsided, and wildly out of proportion to their respective species. They aren't beautiful specimens of flora like the ones you find in flower shops. Mine, well, they look a little bit like mutants from some dystopian universe.

This is MY schefflera plant. It has been known to attack unsuspecting visitors, eats peanut shells, and is a reconnaissance location for green plastic army men.

I've had this one for 22 years. It looks fine from this side.

From this side, it looks like a character from a Dr. Seuss book.

I'm not all that fond of God's pruning, either. I find it painful.

"I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit."

John 15:1-2 NKJV

First, I don't like to admit there are areas of my life that aren't bearing spiritual fruit (love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control). By and large, those are areas that I've allowed to get out of balance, and now they are causing pain or distress or irritation.

Second, I don't like the process of becoming detached. I'm invested in those things, no matter how out-of-balance they might be. Cutting off a chunk of bad habit, or a weak and spindly tangent of an idea gone to seed is to cut off something I've applied myself to. Even though that thing makes me walk funny, or gives me a headache, or makes me look like a spiritual mutant, I want to hold on to it, because development of something new seems so SLOW and difficult.

The geranium won't bloom unless it's pruned.

How about you? Do you have trouble with pruning? How do you approach those periods of time when you feel impressed to set something aside, or give up a dream or an idea, or step away from a relationship in obedience to the Lord?

I suppose it all comes down to trusting Him. Trusting that He has our best interests at heart. And believing that we will look a whole lot healthier and feel much better when He is through.