One of my favorite pastimes is gardening.  It is great exercise, I love to watch plants grow, and we enjoy the fruits of our labors. In almost every season, there is something fun to do.  In January there is the planning and anticipation.  In February I actually start seeds in little pots and then watch them grow during March.  In April I begin planting my spring garden (usually a little too soon), but I am so excited to plant peas and onions and greens as well as carrots and beets.  Throughout May and June we are getting the other plants into the ground—tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, beans, and okra; and we are harvesting some produce by then.

In July (NOW), the garden is exploding with produce.  I have to pick every day.  However, I spend most of my time in the garden performing other maintenance chores.  I am weeding, mulching, and staking the plants as they grow tall.  I am getting rid of pests so they don’t damage the plant or eat the vegetables.  I am cutting flowers so that they will continue to make new ones.  And I am continuing to prune and remove every dead or unnecessary branch so that the energy the plant is producing goes toward making new flowers and vegetables rather than trying to sustain something that will ultimately not be productive.

My particular battle right now is with two volunteer gourd plants.  Sometime back in May I noticed two sprouts that I had not planted.  As they grew, I began to realize they were gourd plants, probably from some compost I had used. These two plants are now monstrous, way taller than I am and they have now taken over one end of my garden and are encroaching on my beans and cucumbers.  I know from experience that these two huge plants might produce only four or five gourds.  And what do you do with gourds?  You don’t eat them.  They are decorative, but the ones I planted last year rotted before I could use them for anything.  Logic tells me I should pull them up before they destroy part of my garden; I know that it is silly but I am having a hard time with this decision.

I become very philosophical as I complete my garden chores.  I enjoy thinking about how Jesus used agricultural comparisons to explain spiritual truths.  He did that because agriculture was so prevalent that most everyone could understand immediately what he meant.  I think he also used agricultural comparisons because they are so appropriate.

For me, the pruning comparison is most appropriate.  I have had a history of taking on way too much.  Even good stuff can become detrimental if it becomes excessive and prevents you from spending time on what is best.  With plants, if you don’t cut off the less vital branches, then you might get a lot of vegetables that are small and less tasty.  If you don’t pull up unneeded plants you crowd out the good stuff.  However, if you are selective about which plants or branches you allow to grow, then you can get larger and healthier vegetables.  Pruning is not something I do because I hate my plant or because I want to hurt it.  It’s actually hard to cut back a shoot or plant that you have lovingly cared for that might grow into something.  However, we know that the best thing to do is to focus energy into what really matters.

Jesus said in John 15:1-2 “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.”

My prayer for all of us is that we will know our true purpose in Christ, that we will be open to conviction about where pruning in our lives is needed so that we can focus on our true purpose, and that we will have the courage to act on those convictions.

Blessings,

Judy