Thinning!

“We know that the whole creation has been groaning … ” (Romans 8:22a)

Before thinning

After thinning

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The branches are over-loaded, bending low to the ground and seemingly close to breaking. I’ve seen it before: what seem to be full branches bending, bending, bending in a stressed downward arc as the peaches increase in size … until they no longer can hold the weight and they crack and they break. The branch is strong, but limited. The growing peaches on the cracked, broken branch will not ripen to their desired size and taste.

The timely discipline and work of thinning is a requirement: it saves the branches and produces the sweet, juicy tree ripened fruit.

This morning I as thinned my mind wandered and wondered with two simple, obvious and dynamic thoughts.

Too much is too much and leads to weariness, groaning and brokenness. We are bent with weariness of all that hangs on to us in our day to day living. We groan with all that life can easily become. We groan with the struggle of trusting God. Sometimes, life weighs us down with unexpected injustices and we are broken. God, the First Gardener, seems distant, there’s no room to even imagine the reality of his presence.

Could it be that the best lived life demands thinning of all that weighs us down, all that we’ve allowed to grow on (and in) us? Guideline #1 of peach thinning is spacing: 4″-8″ apart. Thinning gives room for the peaches to grow and sweeten. It’s a frightening thought: I thinned more than half of the peaches off the branches this morning. Do I have the courage to thin so that the fruit of my life (and the fruits of the Holy Spirit) may increase in size and sweetness?

Guideline #2 of peach thinning is light: peaches must have access to sunlight to attain their “peachy” taste and desired sweetness (sugar increases because of exposure to the sunlight). Peaches on the underside of the branches were thinned this morning.

Could it be that the best lived life invites us to be exposed to the Light? Thinning invites me to the spaces where I have access to the Light! I’ll leave it to you to name those spaces where you may experience the mystery and realness of the transcendent presence of God, the First Gardener. Light was (and still is) the first creative act of the Gardener. As I left our peach grove I turned my face to the heavens, literally and allegorically with a renewed desire to live in the Light, not darkness.

Today I’m thinning with the expectation of fruit to enjoy in the future. Will you join me?