I changed my mind.
As is pretty typical for me, I awoke in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. For whatever reason, I started thinking about the landscaping project that I have been working on. All of the sudden, I decided that I didn’t want a shrub rose in the front anymore. In considering how overgrown and obnoxious they look in the backyard, I didn’t want a repeat performance in the front yard, so I started considering my options.
And so, I had a midnight revelation (only this was a good one; 70% of the time these revelations seem like a good idea in the middle of the night only to be deemed stupid once I shake off the delirium of sleep). I rolled over and went back to sleep, knowing I had a plan to execute in the morning.
After I had put on my gardening gloves and acquired the spade, I grabbed the scrub rose branches and pinned them back, much like you would pin unruly bangs. There, buried under the branches was a pathetic-looking weigela. Several of the branches were bare, and any existing leaves were pretty spare. Clearly, the overgrown shrub rose had literally been sucking the life out of the weigela.
As I stuck my spade into the soil at the base of the plant, I began giving the weigela a pep talk, telling it that I had a much better home in mind for it and would it please cooperate by popping right out of the soil.
Unfortunately, the weigela was even more stubborn than my daughter. After loosening the soil around the plant, I put all my weight onto the shank of the spade, which clearly was taxing the shank as wood and metal began to separate. That weigela had literally put its feet, or in this case, root down, protesting any possible relocation.
At one point, the spade, weigela and I were involved in a complicated aerobic dance in which I was rocking up and down on the shank of the spade – similar to little kids who ride the rocking park toys with the metal coil. While I made some headway, progress was inhibited by shrub rose thorns that mysteriously grabbed my shirt and penetrated my back as well as an early morning infestation of hungry mosquitoes.
It was a showdown between the weigela and me. Only one of us would win.
Finally, after grunting, wrestling, rocking, and generally tussling with the weigela, I heard a pop and the plant tumbled over in defeat. I believe I even said aloud, “I WON!” But as I carried the plan to the new location, I admit that I felt kind of sorry for it. I know how I hate to lose, so I could understand if the plant wanted to pout and ignore me.
The weigela is now in its new location. It’s been pruned a bit more, and I have to say that even after a couple of hours, the plant actually looks happy, if that’s possible. From now on, it will get just the right amount of sun, and in time, it will be a showcase piece in the new landscaping.
How often do I act like the weigela? Just as the weigela was hidden by the shrub rose, I can easily get stuck in a rut, seeing only one perspective, or doing something I don’t enjoy simply because I don’t see or know anything better or feel bad for saying no. Usually, through reflection and prayer, I can find the solution. The next, most difficult part for me is actually taking a step to make a change. Sometimes, someone else has to intervene and show me a different perspective or path.
Like the weigela, quite often, people, in general, don’t like the intrusion. But why? What are we afraid of? The weigela’s stubbornness wasn’t due to fear; its roots were just firmly established over time. I think the same thing is true for us. We like our routines, don’t like to be challenged, and/or are too lazy or afraid to make a change. While we may not like the way things are going, it’s safe, “normal,” expected. Besides, how we live our lives and how we think is no one else’s business but our own, right? And yet, if someone sticks his/her neck out to intervene, that should be a huge flag. Clearly, there is something amiss if someone from the outside chooses to get involved. And yet, like the weigela, we stubbornly dig in our heels, resisting any suggestions or efforts to change or see things in a different way.
Often, this is a destructive decision. In the weigela’s case, it would have led to certain death as the shrub rose was leaching all the sunlight and nutrients away from it. The intervention and transplant means that the plant will now have the opportunity to reach its full potential. Wouldn’t we, as humans, want the same results?
“Pride” is one of those words that can have both positive and negative connotations – kind of like the word, “ambition.” It’s important to have pride in what you do, but when selfishness becomes the prime motivator, there is a problem, which can unravel an entire life in a short period of time. “Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.” Proverbs 13:10.
This morning, as a returned from my run, I gave the weigela a good “once-over.” I was surprised and delighted to see that there are buds on the leaves that are on the cusp of opening. Clearly, this was a good move. And even though I technically won the battle between the weigela and me, I think it’s safe to say that we both won.
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