Growing Our Souls Through Struggle

During that difficult time I heard an Episcopal priest named John Claypool, now deceased, tell a story about his grandfather that profoundly impacted my life. For decades a beautiful plum tree stood in the backyard of John Claypool’s grandfather’s house. The tree was the prize of the farm and the pride of John’s grandfather. Then one day a tornado swept through the community. The storm destroyed many trees, including that plum tree. The violent winds ripped the tree from its roots and left it lying lifeless on its side.

After the tornado blew over, people ventured outside to survey the damage. Before long a few neighborhood men gathered in John Claypool’s grandfather’s yard. They stood in a silent circle, gazing down at the once beautiful plum tree, now ruined beyond repair. Finally, one of the men asked John’s granddaddy, “What are you going to do with that tree?” After a long pause the old man replied, “I’m going to pick the fruit and burn the rest.”

John Claypool, who survived many trials of his own (including the death of his daughter, a divorce, and the loss of his career in the same denomination I left), went on to say that “picking the fruit and burning the rest” is the best response we can make to life’s wounds, storms, and losses. First we need to pick the fruit from the struggle, including new sensitivities, insights, and discoveries. Then we need to burn the rest, including any anger, grief, or bitterness. Finally, said Claypool, we need to move forward with our life.

That story became an inspirational epiphany for me. I knew John Claypool was right. I needed to pick the fruit, burn the rest, and then move forward with my life. So over the next several months that’s what I did.

First, I “picked the fruit.” And there was much to pick. My old denomination gave me many wonderful gifts for which I’ll always be grateful. They introduced me to Jesus, they loved and affirmed me, they became the family for me that my family of origin could not be, they educated me, and they gave me wonderful opportunities of service at a young age. I picked that fruit and will carry it until I die.

And there was even more fruit to be picked. The loss of my old career, painful as it was, resulted in significant growth for me. For example, it taught me to let go of the illusion that I am in total control of my life. It helped teach me humility. Sadly, it also revealed to me the overwhelming toxicity of religious-right fundamentalism. Most important, it taught me that my career was not my ultimate value. Instead, my relationships with God, family, and friends mattered most. In short, that trial, hard as it was, resulted in life-enriching insights.

After picking the fruit, I moved on to “burn the rest.” After many years of frustration and grief over the demise of my old denomination, I desperately needed to burn my disappointment, anger, and bitterness and let it go. It took several bonfires to burn away all the old anger and grief, but eventually I did.

Finally, it was time to “move forward with my life.” Part of moving forward was finding a more progressive denominational home. In short, that awful chapter led to significant growth in every area of my life. By picking the fruit, burning the rest, and moving forward with life, I became a far better person than I ever was before. Therefore, I would not trade that experience, painful as it was, for anything.

I tell this story not to talk about my experience but to speak to your experience. Most readers of this article are either facing a current trial, recently faced one, or will face one in the near future. It could be an illness, a divorce, a lost job, a faith struggle, the death of a loved one, or one of hundreds of other hardships. Unfortunately, ample trials exist to go around.

However painful your trial was or is, I encourage you to “pick the fruit” from it. Use your struggle as an opportunity to grow and mature and become stronger and wiser. After you pick the fruit, I encourage you to “burn the rest.” Burn the grief, anger, and disappointment, and let it go. If necessary, see a professional counselor to help you in this process. Finally, I encourage you to “move forward with your life” with courage, hope, and anticipation.

The witch in The Boy Who Fed on Nightmares was absolutely correct:

Hurtful, painful memories. Memories of deep regret. Memories of hurting others and being hurt. Memories of being abandoned. Only those with such memories burned in their hearts can become stronger, more passionate, and emotionally flexible. Only those can attain happiness. So don’t forget any of it. Remember it all and overcome it. If you don’t overcome it, you’ll always be a kid whose soul never grows.

Don’t be a kid whose soul never grows. Instead, embrace your pain and use it for growth. In the words of John Claypool’s grandfather, “Pick the fruit and burn the rest.” It’s the best gift you’ll ever give yourself.