Trust the Process
By Jim Nichols
It all started at 5218 Olive when I was six years old. My father planted two small elm trees in our back yard. One officially “belonged” to me and the other to my only sister at the time. One thing I learned was that getting trees started successfully after transplantation was uncertain. Indeed, my sister’s died within a year; mine began to grow.
If you were to return to that address now, even my tree is gone. In fact, the whole house is gone. Probably the tree succumbed to Dutch elm disease that seriously depleted American elm trees in the 1950s; the house itself went from “condemned” to non-existent because of neighborhood decline and lack of upkeep. I have not forgotten that elm tree, however, and have planted a variety of trees since then in different yards.
In our current yard are trees and bushes I have put out. Not all of them have been successful plants, but several of them are important to those of us living in the house.
It is winter, however, and that means pruning of the trees and bushes may be required. This has always been a painful activity for me because I have worked hard to plant and nurture them in the first place and now must destroy certain parts of each. The concept of positive destruction or loss is a troubling one. There is good biology as well as good Bible here, however.
The internet gives detailed instructions about pruning of bushes and trees. The instructions are both encouraging and cautioning. Details include things such as not removing more than one-third of the branches in one year and trying to make only a total of five cuts in one year. The goal, of course, is to increase the health of the plant when the growing season begins again. Biologically, this is a consideration of plant hormones.
Auxins are plant hormones found at the tips of branches; they are responsible for growth in length. If one prunes the tips, another type of plant hormone is stimulated along the remaining branch length and that hormone stimulates growth “sideways” in new areas of the plant. This allows, among other things, more light penetration to contact new leaves and therefore allows more photosynthesis. It increases plant vigor.
The Bible comments on pruning occur at the beginning of the fifteenth chapter of John. Jesus describes himself as a vine and God the Father as the vine grower. It is important to note that the vine grower cuts two distinct types of branches. A branch that does not bear fruit is removed; that seems logical because that branch does not seem to be good for much. In addition, however, the branches that do bear fruit also are cut off, at least partially. Scripture explains that the purpose of this is to make the branch bear even more fruit in the future.
Putting these two concepts together suggests that pruning is a process that is truly a type of injury for the good of the whole organism. It is an activity that seems destructive or at least diminishing but leads to positive outcomes for the organism given enough time.
A disturbing corollary is a question, “Might I cut off some good growth during pruning?” In a poem “The Lost Roses” Sally Witt (January 2025 The Christian Century) notes that her rose bush has January buds. She is faced with removing the buds and their future bloom with the expectation that new buds will form and bloom and be even better than the absent ones. But this is a gamble; she must trust the process.
As I move through these aging years, I feel that I am being pruned. My abilities in several categories (physically, mentally, emotionally) are diminishing. Yet, I do note some new thoughts and abilities that are shoving their way in. Perhaps it is necessary to lose some previously highly valued characteristics to add some new ones. This is a hard saying. I am told that the Greek word “prune” is close to that of “cleanse.” Is that what is happening as these years roll by? Is this a fundamental process that something must be removed to ensure that new growth and health can occur?
Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain

Jim, your last paragraph describes me perfectly. Thank you for sharing and identifying with others of us who are in the “winters” of our lives.
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