Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I have two Palo Verde trees in my front yard. 98% of the year, I hate these trees. They're very skeletal-looking and full of sharp thorns. I loathe cutting them. I always end up with scratched up arms and a half a dozen pricks in my feet (the thorns somehow find their way through the soles of my shoes). But this time of year... for just a few days... they're full of yellow blooms... and absolutely beautiful.
One is exceptionally beautiful. Every branch is growing up, it's shaped like something in a storybook, and the blooms are perfectly spaced throughout the tree. You have to be careful trimming this tree, it takes a bit of patience.
The other tree has had it's issues. The branches don't grow up, they grow down and sideways and in curves, etc. We backed away from the house one day and realized it looked exactly, I mean EXACTLY, like Sideshow Bob. It was hysterical! The blooms are sparse and make the tree look spotty. Trimming it's pretty easy; I just cut everything off and let it start again.
I'm learning that there are a lot of these kinds of trees in my life; things that take a lot of time and energy but shine for only a short amount of time... or don't shine much at all. Those things that do shine need careful and consistent attention. Those that don't need to be cut back quickly so new growth can start up again. My lesser tree might not ever make it and if I want to make the most of that spot in my yard, I'll need to replace it.
In a lot of ways, my entire job is like this. I spend 45-50 hours a week planning and preparing for a 70 minute service. Whether it's a great weekend with a ton success or a weekend that just comes out flat, I wake up Monday morning with a clean slate. It's easy going to work on Mondays when the previous weekend wasn't great; I'm eager to start fresh. But Mondays after a successful weekend are tough. Somehow, I've got to try to match or outdo myself. It's exhausting.
I remember exactly how I felt the night of December 24, 2007. Leading up to this weekend, I worked tirelessly to create some new elements for our worship experience. Lots of long hours, late nights, and very few days off. That night, I find myself standing alone in the auditorium. We had just finished our fifth and final Christmas Eve service. Everyone had left the campus to be with there families. Since the school was on Christmas break we left everything setup so the campus cleared pretty quickly after the last service. I stood staring into the empty room and I realized... it was over; this tree had bloomed beautifully but the blooms had now fallen from the tree. I couldn't believe how sad I was... almost... devastated. I had worked so hard and tirelessly for so long... and now... after five short services... it was all over. The following weekends were exceptionally tough to prepare for. There was no way I could muster up enough heart and energy to match what we accomplished Christmas Eve.
I learned a valuable lesson: pace is extremely important. If I move too fast, I tire quickly and run the risk of leaving others behind. If I move too slow, I loose momentum and run the risk of others leaving me behind.
The trees in our yard have been in full bloom for about a week now. Soon, every bloom will fall to the rocks... and create a big mess. In the mean time, I'll find a little more enjoyment pulling up to the house if but for a few more days.
