Midnight prunings promise more fruit

   He woke me at 11 pm. I was in a deep sleep and struggled to pull my thoughts through my confusion.
   'I think we need to chop down the guava tree.'
   'You woke me to tell me that?'
   'We need to take it now!'
   'Now?'
   My husband is a quiet conservative man, and he never gets drunk. My poor foggy brain knew he was trying to explain, but my body was demanding more sleep.
   'It's breaking the roof and I think it will blow down and destroy the paving.'
   With a great effort I calmed my heaving stomach and followed him outside into the howling gale, the remnants of the cyclone that was covering half of Queensland in water. The offending tree was banging into the roof and breaking the sheeting. As the tree swayed in the wild wind, the root mass was heaving the dirt around the trunk. Yes. This tree was doomed to fall.
   So together we went to work. Reluctant to start the chain saw and shatter the neighbourhood's slumber, he found his best pruning saw and a long rope. Unfortunately the tree had multiple trunks, but none of them were more then ten cms through. Each branch stood about 5\five metres high. To avoid the tree falling on the house, he attached a rope to each trunk and sent me down the back yard to pull.
   I cut a glamorous figure, dressed in shortie summer jammies with my bed hair blown by the gale. But, miracle of miracles there was a break in the torrential rain.
   'Pull harder!'
   'I'm trying, I'm trying!' I wrapped the rope around my waist and pulled. I'm willing but no longer fit and forty. But together we conquered the task, rescued the house and retreated to bed as super heroes.
   The next morning our yard looked like a disaster zone. So many trees broken. The bare stumps were a testament to midnight craziness!
   All the trees and shrubs have been cut and chipped, and every stump, no matter how battered, is beginning to sprout new growth. As I walked the yard last week, after writing my blog, I saw the deeper message.
   'Every branch that bears fruit, will be pruned.' 
   The storm had battered our yard, but Steve had then pruned it - dramatically! But life continues. Under the right conditions there will be fruit again, more fruit, better fruit.
   So whilst I feel battered and bruised by many of life's events (See blog below), the Gardener is busily pruning to help me recover, to bring more out of my life. He promises that every branch that bears good fruit will be pruned to be even more fruitful.

   Once again, I rest back in God's arms in peace. He is a good God. His plans can't be destroyed by a few storms. The pruning saw may grab a bit and bring tears to my eyes but I'm so glad He is in charge.
And I'm excited. More fruit is coming. I can't wait.

The Bud Takes a Risk

I love the quote, by Anais Nin

“And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

It caused me to think ….

When a bud is closed tight, it is protected from the wind and rain.  Its delicate petals and stamens are enclosed, safe from harm, bundled up tight and secure. But the pressure is building!  Some thing is pushing them, one against the other and gossip is that at the top of the bud, the protective case has split and some of the petals are being pushed out!

Some of the petals shimmered in excitement at the prospect of being free, of being able to move as they wished, of greeting the ‘Sun’ that they had heard so much about.  Others were more cautious – fearing unnecessary change!  Now the report had come back from the top petals that the sun was dulled, and they were being battered by the wind.  They were trying to get back in the bud – and all that was doing was increasing the split – and other petals were exposed.

One big petal was very quiet in all the ensuing discussion!  He knew he was close to the Sun now. He had waited so long! He pushed up and out with all his might.  He could see the split just above him now! 

He determined to try again. ‘I must get a glimpse!’  So he focussed and tried again.  He pushed and pushed and the pressure was too much for the bud and it split down the side.  The petal turned his eyes outward.  What wonder! What fresh air!  The smells! The perfume!  The possibilities!  The freedom!

 “It is wonderful, just wonderful!” He yelled to the petals behind him, Urging the to follow.  “Come on!  Let’s show the world how beautiful we are!”

“But, the risk!” The other petals weren’t sure. “Let’s stay here – it is more comfortable now the bud is split!”

Just then a little voice was heard outside.  “Daddy, come quick.  The bud is opening!!  Look at the beautiful colour!”  

“Can you smell the perfume?”

“No, Daddy, no smell!”

 “You will be able to smell it when all the petals are open.  It will be wonderful.”

The petals were all quiet for a few moments.  Suddenly they understood!  To bloom would eventually cost them everything.  But to bloom is what they were created for.  To remain a bud and die on the vine was unthinkable.  

“We must bloom.  We must all push together.  We must be the best, most attractive bloom.  Then the bees will come and sup with us, and though we die we will actually live forever!”

PS  A week later a satisfied petal lay under the vine, blown against the fence.  His colour was fading, but his perfume was still strong.  They had done well.  The little girl had admired them everyday – but more importantly they had opened themselves completely to the Sun – and the bees had come.  And as he looked up to the vine, even now he could see the swelling, just below the last few petals, that spoke of fruit, with its promise of new life.  Near him on the ground was a bud – it had never opened itself to the Sun.  The vine had dropped it to the ground as useless.  How sad to have never experienced the Sun – to never have reached fulfilment!  How thankful he was that the big petal had the vision and courage to lead them out!