It was December 29th, 2014, the day of my 33rd birthday. I sat at our kitchen table, looking out the window at the orange tree that sits along the fence in our backyard. We had harvested it just a couple of months before, and now it stood bare. I pruned it earlier in the day, hoping the process would encourage it to produce even more fruit the following year.
The fall season had been an especially rough one for a variety of reasons. My husband came and quietly sat down beside me. I looked straight at him and asked, with a large lump in my throat, "Why does the Lord keep taking things away from me?"
He looked out the window and asked, "What did you do to the orange tree earlier today?"
"I pruned it," I responded.
"Why did you do that?" he continued.
"Because if it has too many growths on it, they can choke one another out..."
He gently reminded me, "That is what the Lord is doing with you."
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December 29th has always been one of my favorite days of the year. I was never one of those that felt like their birthday was overlooked because it was during the holidays. If anything, that made it even more special and magical in my book. "My birthday is four days after Christmas," I would proudly announce when asked.
The older I get, the more I am simply thankful for another year of life. I'm not one for throwing big parties for myself where I am the center of attention. In fact, the idea makes me cringe. I don't think my birthday should be a national holiday. Though, thanks to Christmas break, many people are, in fact, off from work. My husband and children do a great job of making me feel special all year long, and I count a few of my family members as some of my closest friends. Most years, this is more than enough, and I am content.
On December 29th of last year, though, I was sad. And lonely. And feeling left out and rejected. It was such a weird place to be in. I felt like a living paradox. On the one hand, I was living my dream of raising my children at home and working part-time. On the other, I struggled with wondering if that was really enough. I felt like the bare orange tree in our yard. What real fruit did I have to show for my labor? My life reminded me of the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray; each day I woke up and did the same things over and over and over again.
One of the things I appreciate most about my birthdate is that it is at the end of the year. It makes for good times of reflection and anticipation for the new year. Ready to be done with the tail end of 2014, I bowed my head in prayer. I prayed over the dreams and hopes I had for 2015. I prayed that I would keep my priorities in the correct order. I prayed many things.
As I prayed with my eyes closed, I began to get a vision. In the vision, I placed my hands on soil in our backyard. As soon as my hands touched the dirt, green vines started rapidly growing out and up from underneath my fingers. They were bright, thick and covered everything in sight. When I was done, I tried attributing what had happened to my overly active imagination. I also logically concluded that since our home is covered in ivy, it was not hard to think of green vines growing. I had recently taken off with gardening, so it could have been wishful thinking on my part.
I finally concluded in my mind what I knew to be true in my heart: the Lord had spoken to me.
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| Ivy grows steadily along the side of our house. |
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"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." - Isaiah 58:11
A dear friend sent me the above verse from Isaiah, and I decided that it would be my theme verse for 2015. I thought it tied in perfectly to what I had seen during my prayer time. All year, I clung to the vision.
Each time I entered a writing contest, I wondered, "Will this be it? Will this be the harvest I am supposed to reap this year?!" It turns out that many people the world over write well, and it is a fiercely competitive pursuit.
Still, I am officially a paid blogger now. As a writer for the Rio Grande Valley's Tots-Tweens blog, it is my job to find local family-friendly excursions and activities. After voluntarily blogging for a month, they offered to pay me for contributing once a week. It is a job that I have thoroughly enjoyed, and being able to include my children and see the experiences through their eyes is a definite plus.
I saw two big dreams come to fruition this year, one involving music, and the other, gardening. For years, my mother and I have joked about opening up a fine arts school for children. She would teach art, I would give piano lessons, and my sister, Erin, would give voice and/or dance lessons. This summer, we put our heads together and hosted our first Summer Music Camp, and it went very well. We had 11 participants, and spent four mornings playing hands-on musical activities, painting and learning about theory and composers. We look forward to hosting others, and seeing where this endeavor might lead.
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| Music Genetics Piano Studio Summer Camp, 2015 |
Gardening is one of my favorite hobbies. Falling in love with it took me completely by surprise. (To learn about how it all started, read an entry I wrote in September, On How I Became a Gardener.)
Being part of the local Farmers' Market community has been a complete joy and honor. It may seem obvious to most, and it certainly is to me in hindsight, but I never thought to take the vision I had been given literally. I assumed it meant I would be fruitful in different areas of my life, but I took for granted that one of those areas would be growing produce.
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"Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him." - Psalm 34:8
We have lived in our home since August of 2012. Each year, our orange tree has produced fruit. This year, however, it produced so much that when it was ready to be harvested, the branches hung mere inches from the ground. The fruit is so much more delicious and sweeter than it has ever been, and we have had more than enough to share with friends, family and neighbors. We are still reaping the rewards, as we have yet to pick the last orange from the tree.
I couldn't help but think back to where my life was at exactly one year ago, as I stared bleakly out our kitchen window, and where it is now, as I look out with joy. You know what, though? I don't regret going through the rough patch last year. It was necessary. There is no harvest without pruning, in gardening and in our lives. I continue clinging to the promise of the vision the Lord showed me one year ago, praying that it spills over into the new year. I know that it will.
"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." - Galatians 6:9
"Blessed is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!" - Luke 1:45
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| An image of our children playing near the orange tree in October. The fruit was not ripe enough to be picked yet. |
