Winter Trees

Recently I decided to pull up my vegetable garden and plant blueberries instead.  Since I had not grown blueberries before, the man who sold me the bushes gave me some good advice: "around the first of September," he said, "fertilize the bushes with azalea food, because during the winter, the bushes will grow roots.  In the spring, they will produce fruit."

I've been thinking about what he told me.  I think in our personal lives, most of want to be summer trees: beautiful, shady, restful, and bearing fruit (useful).  We want to be "whole" people, contributing to a peaceful world.  But the only way we are going to be "summer trees" is to nourish our roots during the winter months, when the tree seems bare and unproductive.  The winter is important for root development; without strong and deep roots, the fruit may develop and then drop off.  Soon there is nothing left and no way to grow more fruit.

I remember once growing a Louisiana peach tree.  I was told not to allow the tree to bear much for the first three years, because the fruit would develop too quickly for the growing tree, perhaps breaking branches in the process, but in any case, depleting the tree's small resources.  But I was so excited to see the tree producing fruit that I could not bear to strip away the peaches.  Of course, I had to learn the hard way.  In just a few years, the peaches were of very poor quality and could not be eaten. 

In human life, that's what is called a "flash in the pan" and then a slow (or quick) burnout.  Too much too soon, and then it's over.  We see the pattern a great deal with child movie stars, or teen-age singers. In contrast, Meryl Streep, Oprah Winfrey and others like them who endure through the "heat of the day" have taken the time to hone their craft and to put down deep roots.  Their "beauty" is not superficial, but comes from deep within.  We do not tire of truth or of deep beauty the way we do of the latest fad, the thing without "roots."

In the Parable of the Sower, Jesus spoke of those who receive the word with joy, but then lose it because of the cares and riches of this world.  All of his examples in this parable, in one way or another, refer to those who have not put down deep roots, and so lose the fruit they might have bourne.  It is not merely "hearing" of the kingdom, exciting as it might be, that leads to eternal life, but "soaking our souls" in the word, allowing it to produce in us first deep and wide roots, leading to the bearing of much fruit. 

When we feel that we are "winter trees," not bearing fruit, not doing much, that is the time to fertilize our souls: to read, to think, to pray, so that when summer comes (when people come to us seeking fruit), the tree will be strong, resourceful, and productive.