When we bought the house we’re currently living in here in sunny Southern California, we were ecstatic and in awe that it had an orange tree in the back yard.
An actual orange tree.
A tree that bears citrus fruit.
You want an orange? Go to the backyard and pick it off the tree.
For a girl hailing from the great state of Michigan, this was just an amazing bonus to this house. We were sold. I suppose the size, location and neighborhood also had a persuasive direction as well…but let’s talk about this orange tree.
When we moved in, the tree was full of oranges. They were brightly colored, perfectly round, sweet and juicy Valencia oranges. I picked them and shipped most of them back home to family, showing off how awesome my backyard was. ‘Looky here guys…I’ve got oranges growing on a tree in my backyard.’ I might as well have shipped a picture of me sticking out my tongue with my thumbs in my ears along with them.
The boasting didn’t last long. After a year, production of oranges came to a halt on that tree. Over two years went by without a single orange. Not one. I watched the tree grow and never produce another orange. Needless to say, I stopped bragging about my glorious fruit tree and chalked it up to the tree being a ‘lemon’…so-to-speak. My minivan is also a lemon, but I’ll save that for another post.
I had actually considered removing the tree. I mean if it’s not producing fruit, then really, what good is it to me? That was before my dear, sweet sister-in-law came for a visit.
I adore her, really I do. She is a no holds barred, tell it like it is gal.
I simply adore her.
As we were standing in the backyard, I was complaining about that pesky, selfish little orange tree that was keeping all its fruit to itself when she said something profound.
“Have you pruned it?” she asked.
I was so embarrassed at the suggestion that I didn’t know how to take care of the tree in my backyard.
“Uh, well, no I haven’t. Maybe that would be a good idea.”
She started giggling, and when she giggles, you know something is coming. She giggles a lot and really, it’s a sweet sound. She’s so straightforward; the giggling helps you swallow what she has to say much easier.
“Well, look at it. It looks like an orange bush, not an orange tree.” Her giggling continued. “You need to get a pair of loppers and give it a good prune.”
Cut to her and her hubby headed back to the hotel for the night, and me with children in tow, headed to Lowe’s for a tool I knew existed but didn’t know the name of.
The very next morning, while my children watched silently (and probably terrified), I clipped and chopped and hacked that bush back into a tree. I eliminated the suckers that were growing everywhere, cut off all randomly growing branches and said a little prayer for guidance on how to give a tree a haircut. The kids’ hair sometimes turns out ‘not so well’ when I do it myself. I was hoping the tree situation would be different.
And it was.
In one month…one month…it had blossoms! After over two years of not even a sign of life, the tree was suddenly covered with such sweet smelling blossoms; I would venture out to the back yard just to smell it! And as of today, the tree is covered with small, green bulbs destined to be shipped to my family when ripe.
Ok, so here is where I’m going with this whole “orange tree-pruning thing.”
I was in church recently and someone said something about pruning their life so they can bear better fruit. It struck me right away. Prune so you can bear better fruit and so that the fruit that is produced is bountiful and fulfilling.
What a concept.
I am now fully dedicated to cutting out all of the unnecessary stuff that has no bearing to fruit production…so-to-speak.
