I was helping my husband with some pruning today and I thought I would share some of my thoughts, because who doesn’t want to know what’s going on in my brain sometimes? So here we go…

I’m not a huge fan of pruning, or gardening, in general. I usually kill everything by August and then just when I think things are cool enough to do some chrysanthemums, I forget to check the overnight temps and freeze those in a couple of days. Btw, someone text me to throw those out, please? I’ve already forgotten to do it two days in a row. See? Not a gardener.

Ok, I’m pretty sure I hate pruning.

Now I’m SURE I hate pruning, and starting to think I might also hate my husband.

I’m pretty sure I hate him. He just accidentally hit me in the face with a tree branch the size of Rhode Island.

Could someone please tell me, for the love, WHY do we need trees? I mean besides the food and co2/o2 transformation yada yada yada. or trees with 75 feet branches? Why am I so grouchy?

Here’s one reason I’m grouchy: when people walk by and smile and say “That looks like a lot of work!”, THAT IS NOT A GOOD PEP TALK. GO BACK TO PEP TALK SCHOOL OR JUST DON’T SAY ANYTHING.

Turns out, I DON’T hate my husband! I was just hot and dehydrated! Who knew! After getting an ice water delivery from my daughter, the swearing in my head slowed down a little. Also, I just remembered that my body, in all its perimenopausal glory, decided I needed to have a second period this month 17 days from the last one. (Perhaps that was affecting my feelings towards my spouse?) #because2020 #grouchinessclues

Ok, I FOR SURE hate pruning. This is why I am not a tree surgeon. Also, now I’m starting to think about all the “pruning in the vineyard” parables or the “lord of the vineyard”. Is it weird that I think about scriptures while I’m trying not to tear my rotator cuff? It’s either that or think about politics, Covid, trying to plan a December wedding to accommodate Covid…or hit myself with these pruning shears. Can I just say that using pruning as an allegory (let’s not forget dunging) is much more effective for me, now that I know how much freaking work this is. Pruning and dunging—those definitely make TWO of the top ten of my least favorite activities. And yes, dunging is exactly what it sounds like. Spending that much time nourishing and carefully pruning the plants in His vineyard and then weeping over them because they are dying or being overcome with disease is definitely more real, now that I have the aching shoulders to remind me. Personally, I would have torched the whole vineyard, but He keeps going and does everything He can to save whatever branches and fruit are still viable.

I’m not wearing a watch. I quit wearing one in like 1995. My husband, who still wears a watch, keeps asking me what time it is. I don’t know. Apparently, he took his watch off in case it got in the way of his insane monkey/catlike acrobatics with a saw and ladder and made him fall. Now it’s ten minutes later than last time and no, I still don’t know what it is.

My inner child has started asking me that question on a loop. Arewedoneyet? Arewedoneyet? Arewedoneyet? I feel that this has been my attitude too many of my days, lately. I mean, we are NEVER going to be done with this freaking tree, but the country on fire and Covid and wedding prep and at some point I need to schedule a nervous breakdown…

For real. And can we just pause for a moment of silence for DoorDash, Walmart grocery delivery, and Target DriveUp? They have literally kept me functioning (barely, but it still counts) this year.

The tree is pruned. I am fed, bathed, medicated, and pyjamaed. (I’ve always wanted to write that word, but we don’t live in Britain).

I thought of another amazing talk by Jeffrey R. Holland which can be found here . He talks about how day laborers show up to see if there is work available at the vineyard. There is. At different times of day, different workers are invited in to come and work. At the end of the day, the Lord of the vineyard is paying their wages. Everyone gets a penny. It doesn’t matter if they started at 5 am or 455 pm and the day ended at 5 pm. This upsets some of the people who have been working all day. I used to judge these people. Why couldn’t they see the big picture? The generosity of the Lord for all? Well, now I know! It’s because PRUNING IS THE WORST. And it’s exhausting. And I would be angry if someone didn’t have to work as hard as I did, and then got the same reward. That’s not fair.

But that’s me being grouchy and ridiculous and menopausal. The real story behind the parable is what Elder Holland describes.

“This parable—like all parables—is not really about laborers or wages any more than the others are about sheep and goats. This is a story about God’s goodness, His patience and forgiveness, and the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a story about generosity and compassion. It is a story about grace. It underscores the thought I heard many years ago that surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful, especially to those who don’t expect it and often feel they don’t deserve it.”

I feel like I don’t deserve ANY grace at all after taking a little tour of my brain this afternoon. But isn’t that the point? I DON’T deserve it. I CAN’T pay for it. I was forever indebted and yet Christ, who bought my debt, has set me free. That’s not fair. I’m SO glad that life isn’t fair.

I hope I can remember more often, more easily, how merciful God is to me. That He delights in showering me with blessings, if I will have eyes to see them. And hopefully, I will be more merciful to others…just please don’t call me if you need me to cut some branches. I really do think I tore something in my shoulder…