The voluptuous blooms on their hydrangeas are fading fast,
and Emma commented it was time to prune the heads. Even after all these years,
I am still a novice in the garden. So she showed me how.
An inch or two below the wilting bloom, you can see the buds
forming for next year’s profusion. Cut the old flower head off there, and next
year’s show will be amazing, she suggested.
I’ve done it now. We’ll see what happens next year.
My Father is the gardener, Jesus told his friends, … every
branch that does bear fruit he prunes, so that it will be even more fruitful.
Pruning is painful. Sharp shears severing aspects of our
lives which may have appeared to be flourishing. Buoyant home groups which
falter. Spiritual gifts which seem to dry up. Rich relationships which
encounter unexpected issues. A path forward which disappears, or is blocked.
The hydrangea is pruned before the winter storms hit. During
winter weather, it, like the other plants in the garden, hibernates,
regrouping, gathering its strength for the next growing season.
A sabbath rest, a time to be refreshed, strengthened. A time
to sharpen our ears for God’s voice.
Simplify. Batten down the hatches, and lean into the
Gardener.
