A few weekends ago, I woke up one Saturday, and, after spending essentially 5 months confined to my bedroom, I just felt like my space wasn’t a haven anymore. It felt more like a jail cell. Lockdown was hellish, and my bedroom needed refreshing.

Fortuitously, my house is located just down the street from a pretty big garden center, and so I’ve spent the last few weekends picking out the perfect plants for different ledges and corners of my room. I went from having four plants to now owning ten, from tiny ones to a couple majestic mid-size tropical plants atop my dresser. And through the process, I’ve unexpectedly discovered a new hobby in tending my plants.

It appeals to so much of me, in my temperament and interests, from the etymology of the name and the plant’s origin, to the scientific classification and other botanical information, to learning the best way to water them, and watching them grow or respond to the sunlight. One in particular is called a prayer plant because it lifts its leaves at night, and it always reminds me to pray when I see it tucked in for the night.

In the midst of learning something new, which always excites me, I heard a plant-lover on YouTube casually say of a new plant that she would trim off some yellowing or damaged leaves so that the plant can use more energy to grow and unfurl some new leaves.

The plant in the top photo, my marble queen pothos, had a good few damaged leaves, just from bringing it home from the nursery, and later some sun damage that was my fault. I have meticulously, almost prayerfully, meditatively, pruned those damaged or yellowing leaves off the plant, and it looks so much better, to my surprise. And the new crinkly leaves that are starting to uncurl will now have a better chance to grow, and to bring new, fuller growth to the plant.

But this pruning and watching new, slow growth and change reminds me so much of life right now, and of one of my favorite passages of scripture, John 15.

Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. …Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. (vv. 2b, 4)

Honestly, lately I find it hard to focus deeply on studying Scripture: my ability to concentrate comes and goes, which is hard for me as an academic. And I need the external reminder of my prayer plant, and even still sometimes I forget or just can’t pray much because of the pain. My prayers usually contain two, three, or four words, when I do pray.

My life has been pruned back majorly because of this pandemic. It’s lonely. So many of my close friends have moved away and my social circles have shrunk dramatically. I went through a devastating breakup in the middle of lockdown, which compounds every other sense of loss or grief that I encounter. And on top of all of that, I don’t know when I will be able to go safely back to the US to see my family without having to spend four weeks total in quarantine–something I am eager to avoid after the experience of lockdown. I’m not even sure I could afford to go on a vacation, which I am dying for. 

I take it one day at a time and try to laugh lots, and find the joy in the moment, but really I am not okay lately. I am always reminded of what I lost, constantly aware that my family isn’t here, and in a time when I need hugs the most, people aren’t hugging. It feels soul-crushing.

I don’t know why my life got pruned back as dramatically as it did. Some leaves or vines were taking too much from my life, that is true. I have started growing in a new direction which is very exciting. But most of the vines that got cut back were really healthy.

He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. (v. 2)

But now, learning what I have from my own real and symbolic experience with these beautiful, lush growing things, is that now whatever energy I have can help me grow more. I spend more time at home and less time out with friends, but I have a new hobby that brings me so much joy. I’m reading an exciting new biblical studies book and have new fuel for my own research. And the friends I’m left with here really are true friends, for which I am grateful.

It doesn’t make it any easier or less painful. Going back to work, I can see not only my coworkers but the customers are also just crankier, more tired, more haggard. But the good news is we still don’t stop growing. And someday I’ll see what the vinegrower had in mind when He pruned my life back so drastically. I have no other choice but to grow in what I do have, and this blog is a start. I haven’t blogged in more than a year. Look, a new leaf!

I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.