What comes to mind when you
hear the word “prune”? Prune’s definition is: A plum preserved by
drying and having a black, wrinkled appearance. For me, immediately I can relate to a dried up
piece of fruit. Something that was once plump and juicy has now become small,
hard and dry. Another definition that comes to mind is the act of pruning, to
be pruned. The dictionary terms it this: Trim (a tree, shrub, or bush) by cutting away
dead or overgrown branches or stems, especially to encourage growth. Both definitions mean similar things but also
vary greatly.
Today I’m going to type about “transition”. To me it is a like a bad word,
or a pile of left over crumbs that need to be swept up and tossed out. My hard
working hubby is “transitioning” out of the Army and retiring after 21 years of
service. Who knew transitioning out of the Army would actually be harder than
transition within the Army? Ahead of us lies the great unknown: when/where will
the next job be a real thing, where will we live, will I have to go back to
work after 13 years of being a stay at home mommy? It’s like this big blank canvas.
I’ve become so comfortable with the Army painting that canvas for us, in fact
our entire relationship of 20 years has been canvased by the military’s paintbrush.
Now before us lies this great, vast landscape. What do we paint on it? What
colors do we use? What type of brush? It’s OVERWHELMING.
This has been my most hands on lesson for trusting in God to date.
Pondering the what ifs, the unknown, the uncertainty drains me. It sucks me
dry. I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to maintain a positive
outlook on this amazing adventure (state those that have not yet “transitioned”
out). Apparently I am resembling a prune more and more these days, per my
hubby. Not his actual words, more his concerned looks across the table while he
plugs away on his laptop on all that entails “transitioning”. As a frail,
imperfect human being, I can only maintain a sense of “everything is great, it
will all be ok, God will provide, etc” for a period of time. I think this prune is officially dried up and
about to fall off the plum tree. Reality is setting in and there is no short,
easy transition. It is truthfully long, hard, exhausting, emotionally draining
and mentally taxing.
As for being “pruned,” not necessarily a fun, joyful process I might
add. It hurts, it sucks and I don’t like it at all. But if I chew on its
definition again I revisit the purpose of pruning: to encourage growth by cutting
away dead or overgrown branches. Ideally I’d rather be pruned then end up a
prune. That being said, what does one do having discovered they are becoming
dried and shriveled up like a prune? I cannot speak for anyone other than
myself. I read somewhere that unless I’m taking good care of myself, I will be
unable to take care of those I love well. I read that and felt as if someone had
thrown a prune at me , as if to say, “Wake up, Jami! You’re not doing anyone
you care about any good by allowing yourself to become shriveled and dried up.”
Soooooo, here I sit blogging after a year break, tada! I also have a
stack of books by my side that are crying out, “Put down your phone and read
me!” Then there’s the desperate need to go SHOPPING, alas when one is
transitioning, funds are not budgeted for “prune-like wife in need of a shopping
spree.” These are just a few things that help me feel more filled up and less
dried out, and I plan to spend time doing them, well except for spending all
our savings, on a more regular basis.
How about you?? Are you dried up like a prune, in the process of being
pruned? I would love, love, love to hear your thoughts!
