By the end of August, the storms had taken a toll on it. Many of the leaves looked like they had been through a shredder. The right side of the bush was beaten down, the branch split. It looked like a house divided.
I considered cutting off the broken section, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. I thought once it showed signs of dying, it would be easier to part with.
October came and went, and not much attention was given to deadheading. Regarding it from the back door this week, it looked so forlorn. It was one of those 70+ degree days, and I needed an excuse to go outside, anyway, so I took the pruning shears and set out to shape it up a bit. The above picture is what I saw from the house, but this is what I found on the broken down side. Still lush and green, and loaded with blossoms.
So, I learned another life lesson: Don’t give up when the storms of life beat us down, the harsh winds stripping away things we think we need, bending us out of shape. Where there is life, there is hope. There is always hope.
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He might be glorified. Is.61:3