A neighbor of mine keeps rose bushes along her fence. Early each spring she takes pruning shears to them and cuts them way back. The first year I watched, it looked wrong—perfectly good branches lying on the ground. I asked her, “Isn’t that too much?” She smiled: “If I don’t prune, the plant spends itself on leaves instead of blooms. Cutting back isn’t punishment; it’s preparation.” A few weeks later, those “smaller” bushes were covered in flowers.

Jesus said, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman… every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit” (John 15:1–2, KJV). Pruning feels like loss: a plan delayed, an opportunity closed, a habit surrendered, a schedule simplified, a prideful word swallowed. But in the hands of the Gardener, pruning is love aimed at fruit.