I’ve started to notice more of nature’s gifts and metaphors during my evening walks. There’s one lemon tree in particular that always catches my attention. Its branches longingly ache and reach over the fence on the street that I walk, and both juicy ripe lemons and rotting black ones dangle above me. It’s quite a sight, the mixture of both vitality and death on the same single tree.
This lemon tree illustrates how life offers us both experiences. It’s not always either/or. Sometimes it’s “Yes, I feel this, and I feel this” simultaneously. We can feel both suffering and joy. We can feel grief and hope. My pastor passed away on Good Friday and on Sunday, his wife created a beautiful video tribute thanking the church family for walking with them throughout the years of his cancer. Her message was one of gratitude and joy that he is no longer suffering from chemo and radiation, and yet mirrored in her words and voice was also a deep grief and sadness for the loss of someone we all loved and admired.
I’ve started to soften and appreciate the full spectrum of my emotions. It feels better not having to decide between one extreme or the other. We are allowed to feel them all simultaneously. Let them hang and grow and exist together because they all have lessons to teach us. Sadness and joy. Grief and hope. Our hearts are big enough to hold them all.