The Pruning
The light slowly dawns as trees are silhouetted against the morning sky. First, it is a black on white kind of scene, but increasingly the color comes into focus and outside my window our cherry tree is standing. She is waking up, uncurling her riot of pink buds, resisting the April snow showers, and bringing beauty to a desperate world. I am always a little bit worried though, because of the heavy pruning that my husband favors. He is always right.
I wonder what has been pruned from your life this past year.
We have all lost so much, but what has remained is more fruitful. It isn’t a cliché; as things and people are taken from us, we realize with breathtaking clarity how much we loved, how keen our loss. One cannot love without the heartache that comes with losing. A dear friend lost both her mother and mother-in-law within 6 weeks; she knows deep love and profound loss. She was there every moment needed, every conversation had was a gift and grace will carry her, and us, when it seems we cannot go on. It is not what we would choose, but we accept, as best we can, the day given us, the pruning life hands us.
The wisdom books tell us there is a time and a season for everything under heaven, though this is a small comfort, at least it is shared experience. And perhaps that is the gift, to share the experience, and be sure that those you love are supported and know that you are there for them. It will take time for us to wake up, to breathe again without worry, to trust that things will be okay, but we will. Every new morning holds hope and possibilities, and blooming cherry trees.
Reach out today, someone needs you.
“Sow in tears for as long as grace requires, and that same grace will dry your tears. Darkness will disappear before the radiance of the sun and springtime will come with its flowers.”
~From the book, Abandonment to Divine Providence