I’ve been clearing an overgrown garden lately, which has forced me to consider the same about my life.
Interesting how dealing with nature can affect you, isn’t it?
Or age, possessions, and the possibility of wildfire.
Regardless, my musings began outside.
Where to start with an overgrown garden?
A family member recently purchased an old house needing updating.
Our family went right to work: tearing down walls, patching, painting, and refurbishing floors.
With so many busy inside and my inability to manage tools a liability, I went outside to the garden.
(The preschoolers followed me and, another time, a family dog.)
Both the house and yard have “good bones,” and promised joy once order returned.
The previous owner, obviously a gardener, died after a lengthy illness.
Her trees, flowers, roses, fences, arbor were overgrown.
Wisteria snatched at the magnificent fig tree–and probably would take down the house given a chance.
I soon bought sharp new tools and went to work.
“The garden’s all yours,” laughed my relatives.
Culling the overgrowth
Two houses ago, I approached a similar overgrown garden. It reminded me of the scene in The Secret Garden when Mary Lennox pushed open the gate and walked into a riotous green jungle.
(That time I took a class on pruning to figure out how to deal with so many overgrown trees and bushes.)
I know what to do now–start by figuring out just what’s out here.
As I hacked away at wisteria (honestly, it’s as bad as what I’ve read about kudzu!), surprises turned up.
Miniature rose bushes, an abalone shell, a tiny pond.
A deadwood-infested plum bush displayed several plums. We found small peaches and apples and way too many blackberry bushes.
Each slice of the sharp loppers brought something new to light.
The redwood fence, agapanthus, and a blue ball for the dog.
It just required tools and determination to cut through the dense overgrown bushes to find treasures.
What is an overgrown life?
Many of us have lives too overgrown with activities and possessions to stop and enjoy them.
If we can’t appreciate–or even experience–our friendships, time, family, or possessions, what’s the point of having them?
Every room in my house is stuffed with books–but have I read them all? Do I continue to read them?
Several summers ago, I “culled” my books and gave away 400. (But I still have no problem keeping my Little Library in business!)
Digging through them unearthed treasures I forgot I owned (much less had read or, worse, not read!).
I needed to clear out the excess to appreciate the books I loved.
When wildfires roared through our town five and three years ago, we replayed the same lesson. Many friends and I asked ourselves–what have we outgrown? What do we really need?
My relative hasn’t had any trouble furnishing her house. Many friends happily donated furniture, rugs, appliances, and kitchenware they no longer need.
But it’s not just possessions in an overgrown life
Possessions may be one of the easier things to prune–because you can see them.
What about activities?
Years ago, I realized without my husband available to help drive, I physically could not get my sons to all their sports practices.
Two boys, four weekly practices at the same time, fields at different ends of the rural county, mostly at dinner time.
Sports are great for team building exercises. Boys need to run around and make friends.
But we had younger children–who would spend hours in the car.
We wouldn’t have a set dinnertime. The children also needed to attend or enjoy band, scouts, youth group, or simple playing.
I couldn’t count on my husband–despite his best intentions– to help.
We had no neighbors.
I soon realized their activities had overgrown their mother’s organizational capabilities.
We had to weigh a hard choice: what was best for our family?
When my husband and I pushed aside all the time-filling choices, we found a soul-building treasure.
Dinner together as a family won.
How to find overlooked treasures?
My relative waffled on wielding the sharp loppers through the overgrown garden. “What if I make a mistake and chop down one of the rose bushes?”
I waved at the yard. “If it’s healthy, it will grow back. Otherwise, since you don’t know what’s there now, you’ll never miss it.”
Agreed.
We’re all given 24-hours per day. You know this.
The number of years God determined for our lives is fixed–whether we remember that fact or not.
If we cannot use, see, or appreciate what’s already in our lives–whether activity, possession, or plant–why not remove it?
In clearing out an overgrown life–or garden–we may better appreciate what we have.
Or, even find a surprising treasure hidden where we couldn’t see it before.
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What to do with an overgrown garden or an overgrown life. Click to Tweet
Culling the books, garden, life–to find what’s really important. Click to Tweet
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