Sabbtical as Pruning

Sabbatical has had significant impact on me. This year-long process was important but it took some serious imagery to get my mind around it. Even as the year draws to a close I'm still working through it and feel it will be a while until I'm on the other side. One of the images was of pruning.

I've spent a lot of time in the Biblical chapter, John 15. It's Jesus talking to his disciples in their waning time together. Might not be exactly their last night, but it's in their last days at least.
It's the chapter with "I am the vine and you are the branches." Which although is incredibly popular, I don't know of a praise or children's tune that uses this imagery. There was a short devotional book written around it in the late 90's that caught my attention.

There is some serious pruning discussed in verses 5-10.
My thoughts: Pruning hurts.
Pruned branches don't compost well. They are stiff and woody and end up burned.
Pruning isn't self inflicted- but of course what vine has access to loppers.
Some pruning sets the plant back a few years.

I have been trying to grow grapes over the last four years. Literature taught me grapes will flower on two-year old vine. This means your pruning today is planned on to your pruning next year so you'll have bigger better grapes the year after that.

If you're a grape vine, good pruning can take you out of productivity for two years.

I don't want to hear that. I want the short snip. Cut the head off the dead rose bloom and let me get to blooming again this year.

But pruning is essential to better fruit. That's the promise. The nice words they say when you feel like shriveled blooms, crusty leaves and unbending woody beginnings and fruitless attempts.

Fallow

Sabbatical time could be a "fallow" season.
Fallow is often viewed as the field laying at rest. Do no work. Leave the fields unplanted. It might be serene. Maybe former seeds volunteer to bloom. Maybe wildflowers mix with some very green weeds, but in any case, it's still a fairly pretty image.

A more realistic view of the fallow field may not be so ideal- certainly in a tropical climate. There may be a lot of ugly weeds. Some fields are grown in conditions constantly fighting back the weeds. Left to their own, they take over. The thought of kudzu comes to mind, a literal take over.
There maybe several old seeds still sprouting. Some good seed or some bad crop ideas. Some sprouts getting choked by the weeds.
It could be a total mess.
It's a fight between civilization and wild. Tamed versus unruly.

For a short time- Maybe the brambles and the vines need to stretch. Maybe irregular rain and lots of sunshine just need to reign. Maybe the weeds and the sprouts need to fight it out and let the tension release.

Sabbatical Time

I'm taking some sabbatical time this summer.
First let me say how wonderful it is that I work in a organization that allows for sabbaticals.
Second I have to say how anxious I was taking time away from work that I love. When you like what you do, it seems silly to take time away.
Last, I had a difficult time getting my head around what a sabbatical was to be for me.
Gardening offers useful metaphors. There is the Levitical command to leave the fields fallow every seventh year. There is pruning of fruit trees and vines. There is also the more extreme "burn it down and plow it under."

With a large chunk of time and adventurous family, we made a plan that put to use my anxious energy.
But being two-thirds through it, Is like sitting in the midst of a weedy field, the pile of shriveled branches and the ashes of burn.
The miracle of sabbath, is like the miracle of gardening. God sends the sun and the rain. And heck, God sent all the original seeds too. The plants grow without us. Some even better than they did with our help. We aren't nearly as productive as we think we are.

Pile of Leaves Miami Style

What the majority of the US population does in the fall, we do in the spring. We gather the limbs, palm fronds, and tropical invaders into a pile on the curb. But we don't jump into the pile and frolic. We leave it to the rhino spiders and 200 ant species that get that privilege.

Risk Love and Courage

Just as I sat slightly anxiously considering the risks today.
Today three churches are gathering together. They're mixing food (culture,) music (culture,) and party conversation (culture.) I had already dealt with the anxious thoughts of weather and attendance. This morning is gorgeous and a lot of folks are coming.
These new thoughts went to- tribal risks. What if something breaks and each tribe starts to blame the other church? What if any of the food, music, conversations start to stress those cultural understandings and cross into misunderstandings?
Oh Dear Lord.
And just as the thought formed words, the pastor introduced the "new layer of love" he has been meditating about recently. Romans 5:5.
Love is poured out into our hearts. This love grows a courage. That courage will allow three churches to gather. That love will allow three tribes to worship God in the neighborhood God placed them in. That love is God.

It is going to be a great day. Without such love, there is great risk. But today there is great courage.

Frog Hiding

We live near a lake. No surprise since really everyone in South Florida lives near some body of water or another. In our area we have frogs that get really loud at night. I don't see them but I can really hear them. I've often wondered where are they hiding. well here's one chilling in a bog lilly like its a hammock.

Surprise Pineapple Grandbaby

One year after my first, I found this beauty today. I hadn't even looked because I didn't expect another pineapple could follow so quickly. Any name suggestions?

Caught in a Private Moment

Midnight Planted Spaces Now Bursting

Maybe there is something to planting by midnight, because I have a large amount of very happy tomatoes.  This bed was planted at midnight January 8 as I returned from Atlanta. The Full Moon seemed to stick around a little longer.                       Of course it could also be the occasional rains we are having this winter or maybe the quality of the seeds. But in either case I'm glad I have cilantro growing. It may be a year for salsa.